Ben Granger and the Legacy of Icarus
by Helmione Nightingranger
Summary: When Hermione's little brother Ben starts at Hogwarts, he thinks he will be just another non-descript first year...and, well, he is! But he finds a whole lot of things at Hogwarts that he didn't expect - gossip wars, family ties, ancient prophecies and (o
1. The Most Annoying Brother In The World

A/N This is not my first fic. It is one among many. However, it is the first of its kind, in that it, well, it actually has a plot. From this moment on, I renounce my title of "Authoress of possibly the most pointless fluff n melodrama on the planet" lol. So, count this, if you will the first fic of a "born-again" fanfic writer. (And thank the muses that I didn't write another romance!)  
  
There are a few things I'd like to say before I begin:  
1) This fic is about an original character - Ben Granger. He is Hermione's little brother. I don't know if Hermione has any siblings in canon, I can't remember. I know we never meet them, and I know most fanfic-ers make her an only child, but do we ever actually hear that she is? I don't know. Even if we do, remember this is FANFICTION. Sorry to shout, but I know I'll get some reviews that say "oh, but Hermione doesn't have a little brother." Some people never read the author's note, I learned that from Lily's Waterloo. But anyway, I digress. You are not one of those people who ignores the A/N, so I'm grateful to you for doing me the courtesy of listening. Many thanks.  
2) Please don't leave me a review that says "aaww :)" Whilst it's very kind of you to smile at me, this doesn't really help me to develop as a writer. I'm not expecting an essay, but please, if you liked it, tell me one bit you enjoyed. If you thought it sucked, which bit could I do better? Is it clichéd? Are they out of character? Should I curl up into a hole and never write again? Say what you like, but please please, please give me a reason.  
3) I am not J K Rowling. I don't claim to be. I own nothing. I'm putting this in here because I always seem to get the wild urge to make up stupid disclaimers. In fact, I quite often find people reviewing mention more about the disclaimer than the fic! So if you make it as far as the disclaimer at the end, just ignore me, I tend to get a little hyper when I finish a chapter. Hence the weird endings.  
4) I can't make Notepad put words into italic for me, so if something has stars around it, please consider it to be *italic* and therefore emphasised.  
5) Thank you for listening to me rant. If you made it this far, you must be determined, so stick with it and together we'll go far! Enjoy...(Hopefully)  
  
  
Ben Granger And The Legacy Of Icarus  
  
By Helmione Nightingranger (Helen) and dedicated to my wonderful beta-reader Parker. Thank you loads.  
  
  
Dear Journal  
  
I can hear Hermione moving in the next room. I've tried stuffing my head under a pillow, but I still can't sleep, so I thought I'd write in here. Well, I was given this journal last Christmas by Hermione (she thinks that everyone wants books all the time like she does) so I might as well put it to some good ironic use and complain about her in it.   
  
She's probably checking she's got all her school books packed or else unpacking them to read them again. I swear, that girl is trying to memorise Hogwarts: A History word for word. Maybe she's hoping she'll be asked to write the foreword for the next edition. I wouldn't be surprised if she was - she's always been singled out, the child prodigy. She's the only person in the world who literally is a know-it-all, because she actually does know it ALL. Every single last detail of it. She always has.   
  
Maybe that's why I'm a little, shall we say, *haphazard* about school work. I do ok, but when you're related to Hermione "150% on a bad day" Granger you can't try to compete, because if you did you'd just lose all the time and it would be depressing.   
  
And you know what the really sickening thing is? I was all set to be beaten hollow at Maths, Science, and English for the rest of my life, but then Hermione got her Hogwarts letter and found even more subjects to be the best at.   
  
I don't know much about Hogwarts, or magic, (well, not yet anyway) but I know that however talented I may turn out to become, and however hard I work, there's no way I'll ever be able to compare to Wonder Girl.   
  
I sound really bitter, saying all this, but she's all right really. Yes, it annoys me that I'll never be as good as her, but hey - she's my sister, and I love her. Mum and Dad are ok too, as parents go, but my whole family's a bit crazy really.   
  
Well, I say a bit - I have parents who name their kids after characters in four hundred year old plays and fill their house with saccharine goodness, as they despise sugar in all its forms.   
  
I have a sister who is away at University and whose main accomplishment since going there is being able to draw with her feet. (Don't ask - she has WAY too much free time.) That's Ophelia - she's almost as mad as the Danish princess she's named after.   
  
And Hermione, well, I've already mentioned Hermione, but if you don't know her, let's just say if she ever tried to meditate, she'd use the mantra: "You can't apparate or disapparate inside the Hogwarts grounds!"   
  
I think, all in all, that given the family of madmen (and women) I come from, I turned out pretty well. So it doesn't matter too much if, when I get to Hogwarts today, it turns out I'm not another Hermione. I think for the moment I'm happy to be me, Ben Granger, just another nondescript first year.   
  
I'll leave saving the world 'til tomorrow.  
  
*  
  
Ben Granger put down his journal and pen, wondering if maybe he should have tried using a quill to write instead. He'd never used one, and he was sure he would make a complete mess of it when he tried - he was naturally clumsy, and he was quite sure the idea of putting him next to an open bottle of ink and a big feather was not a good idea.  
  
Still, he would worry about that when he got to Hogwarts. That was just one of the hundreds of tiny things that seemed strange and alien about this new school to him. The magic wasn't a problem - Ben had always known there was magic, as Hermione had got her Hogwarts letter before he was old enough to become cynical and stop believing in children's stories.  
  
The problem was that the whole magical culture seemed different than the one he knew, in the smallest and most crucial ways. Would he ever get used to sending a letter by *owl*? Would he learn to like trading orange juice for *pumpkin* juice? Would he grow to find it strange that the posters on his wall stayed still?   
  
These little snippets were among the smaller and less important things Hermione had told him about the magical world, but even they were enough to make him see that after today, life would never be the same again.   
  
He got up, dressed quickly in jeans and a T-shirt, and nervously put his wizard robes over the top. He knew he wasn't supposed to wear them yet - he had to go to the station in normal clothes - but he wanted to see what he looked like. He did up the heavy black buttons on the front, and moved silently into the bathroom, praying that no one would come out and see him.   
  
He felt silly and vain, looking at himself in the full length mirror, and when he saw his reflection, he felt worse. He wasn't too keen on the way he looked at the best of times - short messy brown hair, a normal sort of face, blue eyes, and very red lips that sometimes made people ask if he was wearing lipstick - but today, with his robes on, he was even less keen. He made a face, and muttered: "I look like a girl!" in disgusted tones.   
  
He trudged back to his room and put his thick black woollen cloak over the top. That wasn't too bad - it made him feel a bit like an evil Black Knight in a fantasy story. He flung one side of it over his shoulder and stood tall, hand on hip, imagining he was about to face the White Knight in a duel to the death.   
  
"Draw, you knave, and let us fight, for I shall have the hand of the Princess yet," he said in a low voice. He was still secretly very fond of fairy tales, and, though he always supported the good side, he felt it was much more fun to play at being on the bad side - the evil characters always got the best lines.  
  
"Why hast thou forsaken me?" he demanded of the invisible Princess who was cowering behind her lover the White Knight, hoping he would protect her.   
  
Just then, there was a knock on his door.   
  
"Ben, are you awake? You should be up by now, we don't want to miss the train." Ben nearly fell off the bed in surprise at hearing his mother's voice, when he was so sure it would be the Princess.   
  
"Yeah, I'm awake..." he said, in a just-woke-up-and-still-very-sleepy voice, hoping that his mother wouldn't come in. He was already nervous, he could do without being teased all the way to the station about Ben the Black Knight. He listened to her footsteps going back downstairs, and, feeling very foolish indeed now, he slipped off his cloak and robes, bundled them up, and put them back into his trunk.  
  
*  
  
It was the first time he'd been to King's Cross. His parents didn't seem to trust him not to run amok in the middle of London. They probably thought he'd run all the way to Trafalgar Square and chase the pigeons, which he had done last time they took him to London, the year before Hermione had started Hogwarts. To be fair, he had been five years old at the time, but they'd never let him go to London since. He'd always been left at Grandma Maureen's whilst Hermione got whisked away once more to her magic school and Ben was left with only the magic in his head.  
  
He was surprised at how busy it was. The Grangers lived in a small town not far from London, but it was a very small town, and Ben didn't think he'd ever seen this many people in one place.   
  
Hermione paced confidently through the station, pushing their trolley as though she knew exactly where she was going. Which she did, of course. When they reached platform nine, she turned to Ben, and said:  
  
"Right, now I'll go first, you just have to walk through and not be scared or nervous."  
  
"I KNOW, Hermione, you've told me seventy trillion times already." Ben was starting to get annoyed with his older sister.  
  
"Don't exaggerate," she said in a dignified voice. "If you don't want my help, fine." She turned to their parents.  
  
"Bye," she said. Mrs Granger scooped her up into a hug, and Mr Granger touched her on the shoulder.  
  
"Look after Ben, won't you dear?"   
  
"I don't need looking after! I'm eleven years old! I'm not stupid!" Ben scowled.   
  
"Of course you're not, Ben. Come here." Mr Granger smiled, then hugged Ben, who struggled, trying to get away. Parents were *so* embarrassing.   
  
"Good luck, Ben. Send us a letter to tell us how you're getting on," his mother kissed him on the cheek, which he scrubbed with his hand, trying to make her damson lip-print disappear.  
  
"He will," said Hermione, obviously eager to get away. "C'mon Ben, let's go. See you at Christmas!" she called over her shoulder, as she turned and walked quickly through the ticket barrier, and Ben hurried after her.  
  
It wasn't that they didn't love their parents, but both of them sometimes felt stifled in the sleepy little town where they lived, with only parents and old primary school friends for company. It was strange, but Ben often found that with the friends he'd known all his life, he had to behave like they expected. He was looking forward to meeting new people who wouldn't expect anything of him yet. Both Ben and Hermione couldn't wait to get away to the freedom of school.   
  
And, of course, Ben had other theories about Hermione's eagerness to get to school.   
  
They were on the other side of the ticket barrier now, next to a large steam train, which was bright red, as Hermione had said it would be. Hermione was looking around her anxiously.   
  
"What's the matter?" asked Ben grinning, "Can't you find your boyfriends?" Hermione glared at him.  
  
"If you *dare* call them that when they get here, I swear tomorrow's Prophet will read 'Straight-A Student Quite Understandably Murders Annoying Little Brother.' "  
  
Ben grinned even wider. Hermione was the best person in the world to wind up, because she took everything so seriously.   
  
"I don't know what you mean," he said, innocently. "Aren't they your boyfriends? I just thought, you know, the way you're always going on about them...."  
  
Hermione flushed. Ben knew he'd hit a nerve. Now this could be fun....  
  
Just then, a large group of red-headed people burst through the ticket barrier at once, followed swiftly by a round woman who promptly began shouting at them, saying something about "noticeable even to Muggles" and "only so many memory charms" and "you'll drive me mad, I swear it!"   
  
The children didn't seem to mind too much. They just laughed, each taking a battered trunk off the trolley, and heading for the train.  
  
"Harry! Ron!" called Hermione, waving, over the noise of the station, and immediately one of the ginger haired boys and a smaller black haired boy with glasses who'd been standing behind the red-heads looked over. Ben smiled evilly at Hermione as the two boys walked over, and before she could say a word, he began to speak to them.  
  
"Hello there. You must be Harry Potter - Boy Who Lived, resident Wonder Boy, Hero, and Saviour of the Poor Normal Folk from the Dark Lord. I can tell it's you, 'cause you've got those 'huge green eyes and black floppy hair that just makes you want to run your fingers through it.' " Hermione looked murderous, hearing him imitate her voice almost perfectly. But Ben wasn't finished yet. He turned to the other boy, and spoke again.  
  
"And you must be Ron Weasley - King of Sarcasm and Chess Extraordinaire who looks 'so cute when he's angry' and may well turn out to be 'the best looking thing since Leonardo DiCaprio.' " Hermione was as red as the steam engine behind her, but Ben couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. She closed her eyes and groaned softly.  
  
"You. Are. Dead." she whispered, pronouncing each word carefully through gritted teeth. Ron and Harry were just looking puzzled.  
  
"And you are....?" asked Harry.   
  
"Ben Granger - current holder of the title Most Annoying Brother In The World." Ben bowed low.   
  
They laughed. "You might have to fight Fred and George for that one," said Ron.  
  
Harry was looking curiously at Hermione. "Did you really say those things about us?" he asked, grinning. Ron smiled too, and both waited for an answer. Hermione squirmed.   
  
"No," she said. She was a very bad liar.   
  
Somewhere behind them, a shrill whistle sounded. "Come on, we'd better get on the train." She said, glad of the distraction. They trooped after her, dragging trunks, and soon they were all sitting somewhere in the middle of the train, as it began to move out of the station.  
  
Ben sighed happily. His journey to Hogwarts had begun.  
  
*  
  
They had been sitting on the train for a little while, Hermione, Ron and Harry telling Ben about Hogwarts, when the first of many visitors walked in.   
  
She was a small girl, with tangled dark brown hair falling untidily over her shoulders. Her blue-grey eyes were so large that they gave her the look of an insect or a fish, and her smudged robes were falling off one shoulder, and trailing on the ground behind her. The most noticeable thing about her, however, was that she was singing. She opened the door to the compartment, singing loudly:  
  
"Bring me sunshine  
In your smile  
Bring me laughter  
All the while...."  
  
Then she trailed off, looking at them. Maybe she'd been looking for someone else, or she'd thought the compartment was empty, because she didn't say a word. She laughed at their astonished faces, winked at Ben, and then turned and left, picking up her song in a different place.  
  
"Let you arms be as warm  
As the sun from up above  
Bring me fun,   
Bring me sunshine..."  
  
And then she was gone.  
  
"Who was that?" asked Harry, but none of the others knew.   
  
"I suppose she must be a first year, I've never seen her before, and she looked quite small," said Hermione.  
  
"She's very confident, if she is a first year," said Ron "I don't know anyone - except Fred and George, maybe - who would be that unfazed when caught singing by four strangers."  
  
"She seemed quite strange, anyway - I mean, what sort of person sings on a train?" Hermione asked, laughing.   
  
"She seemed fun," said Ben "I think it's nice to sing on a train. It's different." He would have said more in the strange girl's defence, if he hadn't been distracted by the fact that the most beautiful girl in the world had just walked in the door.  
  
She had long gingery hair flowing in waves down her back, and big brown eyes that looked warm and kind. She walked over to Ron, leaving the door wide open, and began to speak to him.  
  
"Ron, can I borrow Pig to owl mum and dad? I left my copy of 'Through The Purple Mist: Scrying For Beginners' at home." Ron made an impatient noise.  
  
"Gin-ny! We went back to the house three times because you forgot things and you still don't have everything with you?" Ginny bit her lip, and laughed nervously.   
  
"What can I say? I'm forgetful."   
  
"And You-Know-Who's evil. Yay, now we can all have hours of fun stating the bloody obvious!" muttered Ron, taking the cover off an owl-cage that Ben hadn't noticed up before, and handing the whole cage to Ginny. "Here. He doesn't like the train anyway, perhaps it's good he's got something to do."   
  
Ginny took the tiny owl out of its cage, attached the letter she was holding to its leg, and let it go out of the small train window. For a moment, it was caught in the wind around the train, being pulled along this way and that, but it fought hard, flapping its wings bravely, and was soon flying in the opposite direction.  
  
Hermione noticed Ben staring at Ginny, eyes glazed. She grinned. Revenge is sweet.  
  
"Ginny, this is my brother, Ben. He's a first year." Ginny looked at him.  
  
"Hi." She said, smiling. Ben felt as though the sun had suddenly broken through the clouds, and he smiled back.  
  
Ginny sat down in one of the seats opposite Ben, and joined in their conversation.  
  
"How come Hermione has a name that no one can pronounce, and you're called Ben? Got off a bit lightly, didn't you?" asked Ginny. Ben opened his mouth to answer, but found it wasn't quite working properly. Hermione stepped in.  
  
"Ben's not his full name. Our parents are Shakespeare mad - Hermione's from A Winter's Tale, his full name - Benedick - is from Much Ado About Nothing, and our other sister is called Orphelia, from Hamlet." Ginny frowned for a second.  
  
"What's a shake spear?"  
  
Hermione laughed. "Not what - who! He's a Muggle playwright. You should know, your dad's got loads of his plays."   
  
This time Ron laughed. "Hermione, if we listened to dad whenever he starts going on about Muggles, we'd be madder than Moody's magic eye. Our dad's crazy about Muggles," he continued, explaining to Ben "He collects plugs." He paused, seeing the look on Ben's face, and laughed. "He's an odd man..."  
  
"Couldn't agree more," said a cold drawling voice, as a tall, pale boy stepped out of the shadows of the corridor.  
  
"Go away, Malfoy," said Ron. "Nobody's interested in your opinion." The boy raised an almost invisible white eyebrow.  
  
"Nice to see you too, Weasley," he said, sarcastically. The atmosphere in the compartment had changed, suddenly. It was cold. Ben could tell that every person in this compartment except him hated this boy with a vengeance, and he thought that he might soon be joining them in the opinion - Hermione had told him all about Draco Malfoy.  
  
"All on your own, Malfoy? I didn't know you could walk without your bodyguards holding your hands," Hermione said, sneering. Ben was surprised. He'd thought Wonder Girl Hermione couldn't even *say* "bitch," let alone *be* one.  
  
"Shut up you stupid mudblood." The boy - Malfoy - said. Ben looked around. Harry, Ron, and Ginny, seemed to be outraged on Hermione's behalf, and both Harry and Ron stood up as though to punch Malfoy. But Ben wasn't having that. He might insult his sister, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let anybody else do it.  
  
He stood up.  
  
"What did you call my sister?" he asked, dangerously. Malfoy laughed. Ben didn't even come up to his shoulder.  
  
"Sit down, Ben," said Hermione softly. He ignored her.  
  
"I said, what did you call my sister?" Ben asked, staring Malfoy straight in the eye.   
  
Both his eyebrows were raised now, and he looked at Ben with extreme amusement. "Is that who you are? As if one know-it-all mudblood wasn't enough for us to cope with, now we're stuck with its little brother too. Well, isn't this a day for rejoicing. I called her a mudblood, and I'm calling you one too, because that's what you are. And what exactly do you plan to do about it?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know what that is, and I don't know who you are, but nobody insults my sister in front of me!" Ben kicked him hard, in the shin. He'd been in a lot of fights with people bigger than him, and knew exactly where to kick. The boy doubled over, cursing.  
  
"You little -" he said, lunging towards Ben, but suddenly a distraction arrived.   
  
"Hey where did we go?  
Days when the rains came  
Down in the hollow  
Playing a new game..."  
  
The singing girl was back. And she had a new song. She paused in the doorway, and stared at them all. Malfoy straightened up, at once, and glared at her. She grinned back.  
  
"Brown eyed girl...  
da da da dum dum...  
You my brown eyed girl..." she sang, pointing at him and winking. His glare became even colder than it had already been. Evidently he didn't take kindly to being called a brown eyed girl. Out of the corner of his eye, Ben could see Harry and Ron trying very hard not to laugh.  
  
"Do you remember when  
We used to sing?  
Sha la la la la..."   
  
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Beatrice, give it a rest," snapped Malfoy, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "There's really no point in you singing all the time, you know your mother will make you go into your family business."   
  
"That's all you know, Drake. I'm going to be a star, just you watch." This declaration from such a tiny, funny looking girl was too much for Harry and Ron - they burst out laughing.  
  
"Stop calling me Drake!" said Malfoy through gritted teeth, barely audible over the noise of the laughter.  
  
Beatrice ignored them all. She simply began to sing again, snapping her fingers to the beat and dancing with her shoulders.  
  
"Fame!  
I'm gonna live forever!  
Light up the sky like a flame - fame!"  
  
Malfoy looked around the compartment in disgust, and strode quickly out of the door and away down the train.   
  
"Well, at least he's gone now," said Hermione. "Honestly, Ben, do you want to get yourself killed? He's not only bigger than you, he knows a lot more magic. You can't go picking fights with people like that."  
  
"I didn't! He's the one that was picking a fight - calling you that! What does that mean, anyway?"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Look, Ben. There are lot's of things that you don't know about the wizarding world yet. And one of them is that..."  
  
"That idiots like Drake think they're better than everyone else because they have magical blood going back a long way. When in fact it's them with their intolerant traditions and stupid fixed mindsets that have the bad blood. Everyone who's anyone knows that Malfoys aren't worth talking too. They think they're the crème de la crème, but everyone avoids them and their kind at society parties. 'Truly pure blood is pure enough to accept everybody else's way of living.' "  
  
There was a stunned silence. Everyone stared at singing-Beatrice. She smiled.   
  
"I'm gonna learn how to fly - high  
I'm gonna make it to heaven....  
Baby, remember my name!"  
  
And she danced out of the compartment, letting the door slam shut behind her.  
  
Everyone sat stunned for a second.  
  
"That was surreal," said Hermione. No one answered. Harry and Ron were trying to decide whether or not to pretend they knew what surreal meant.  
  
"Strange girl," said Ben, admiringly.   
  
"Yeah," said Ron "Weird, what she was saying about 'society parties.' I guess she must be from some old wizarding family, though I can't say I recognise her."  
  
"Maybe she's from a rich family. One of the really, really old and really, really rich ones that keep themselves to themselves, and stay out of the ministry. Like the Malfoys were up until Lucius," suggested Ginny.  
  
"Maybe, I mean, if she's talking about parties for rich people, then we wouldn't..." Ron trailed off. Everyone looked at the floor.  
  
"You were very brave, to stand up for Hermione like that," said Ginny smiling at Ben. She was trying to relieve the tension by changing the subject, but even so, Ben felt lighter than air - Ginny thought he was brave!  
  
"He was very stupid." Said Hermione. "Ben, you can't keep trying to look after me. It's very sweet, but you'll get hurt. Remember the day you started primary school and you attacked that boy who pulled my hair?"   
  
Ben grinned. "Yeah."   
  
Hermione didn't smile. "He gave you a black eye and you lost two of your front teeth."   
  
Ben laughed. "True." He didn't even remember what he had been thinking, attacking that older boy. All he knew was, people shouldn't hurt his sister. He'd beaten people up all through primary school for laughing at Hermione or calling her a square. Mostly, though, he'd had to do it behind her back, because she got worried when she knew he fought because of her. By the time he was ten, his entire family had thought he had a violent temper, but it was worth it, because no one teased his sisters anymore. Ben Granger was a force to be reckoned with.   
  
Except that now he found that people had been doing it here, at Hogwarts, where he'd been powerless to stop it. But he would change that. And soon.  
  
Just then, Ben looked outside at the country and noticed that the train was slowing down. It seemed that Hermione had had the same thought.  
  
"Oh, look! We're nearly there and none of us have changed yet!" The others began to pull their robes out of their trunks, and they all pulled them on over their clothes.   
  
By the time everyone had got their robes straight, and put all their things back into their trunks, the train had pulled gently to a stop, and a sign outside the window read 'Hogsmeade Station.'   
  
Ben made to pick up his trunk, but Hermione stopped him, saying, "We leave them here. You'll find it in your dormitory when you go up tonight." Ben wanted to ask why, but it seemed there was no time. A current of people moving through the train to the door swept him, Hermione, and the others off the train.   
  
"Go and find Hagrid!" Hermione yelled over the crowd of people. Then she, Harry, Ron, and Ginny went to find an empty carriage to take them to Hogwarts. The last thing Ben heard was Crookshanks yowling, and then they were gone, and he was all on his own in the huge crowd. He shook his head. Why Hermione had wanted to buy that huge ginger cat was beyond him. He hated cats.  
  
Then he heard a voice calling the first years, which from Hermione's description could only be Hagrid.  
  
"Firs' years! Firs' years ov'r 'ere!" Ben walked over to Hagrid, and found a small mass of shivering people around his own height.   
  
When Hagrid was satisfied all the first years had found him, he led them down to the boats that Hermione had told Ben would be waiting for them. Ben climbed into one nervously - he wasn't that comfortable on water - and was immediately followed in by singing-Beatrice from the train.  
  
"Hello," he said. She responded, of course, with a song.  
  
"Good mornin'!   
Good mornin'!   
We've talked the whole night through!  
Good mornin'!   
Good mornin' to you!"   
  
Ben raised an eyebrow.   
  
"Do you EVER stop singing?" he asked. Beatrice grinned, a grin which was becoming quite familiar now. It seemed she smiled almost as much as she sang.  
  
"Rarely," she answered. "Like I told Drake, I'm gonna be a star! I like Muggle songs the best, because my singing teacher's a Muggle, and so she teaches me the songs she knows. My mum says I have to learn magic, because I'm a witch, and I want to, 'cause it's quite fun, but I read about this Muggle stage school, and I think I'd rather go there really. Mind you, I'm lucky even to have what I have - if mum knew I have a Muggle singing teacher, she wouldn't be happy. I have to sneak out and see her."  
  
"Why do you call him "Drake"?" asked Ben "I thought Hermione said his name was Draco Malfoy."  
  
"It is," Beatrice laughed "Drake is what his mother calls him - he can't stand it. I just love winding him up! Darling Drake and I have never really got on - I went to primary school with him."   
  
Ben said nothing. He hadn't even realised that magical children went to primary school. He wasn't quite sure what to say. He felt a bit like Beatrice had opened up his head and was just pouring information into it. It made him a bit dizzy.   
  
"What's your name?" she asked.  
  
"Ben," he replied. "Ben Granger." She smiled again.  
  
"Hi Ben! I'm Beatrice." Ben smiled back. It was difficult not to - Beatrice was one of those people who talks in exclamation marks and italics, and it was catching.  
  
"D'you know what house you'll be in yet?" asked Beatrice. Ben shrugged.  
  
"I thought you didn't know 'til you got there. Hermione said something about a hat...?"   
  
Beatrice laughed. "No, nobody knows 'til they get there, but sometimes its obvious just from who you are. And yes, it's the Sorting Hat. You try it on, and it tells you which house you should be in. I'm going to be a Ravenclaw."  
  
"How d'you know?" asked Ben, curious.  
  
"I just know," said Beatrice with a wave of her hand. She paused, looking at him with her head on one side. "You know, I think you might well be one too."   
  
"Isn't Ravenclaw the one for really clever people?" asked Ben. "I don't think I'll be in that one. I think I'm probably a, what was it called, a Puffle huff?"  
  
"A Hufflepuff. No, you're no Hufflepuff. Trust me on this one, I know hundreds of witches and wizards and I'm a pretty good judge of character. You're no Hufflepuff. Though you do seem to be very loyal to your sister, it takes more than that to make a Hufflepuff.  
  
And a lot of people make the mistake of thinking that Ravenclaw is for clever people. It's not for clever people, it's for people who could be clever. If you're willing to learn and have to capacity to know a lot, then it doesn't actually matter if you know much yet. But there's one other important thing - what truly makes a Ravenclaw is wisdom."  
  
"Wisdom? You make it sound like we all have to be philosophers!"  
  
"We do - of sorts. A Ravenclaw has to have hidden depths. Has to be able to see things other people can't. There's no such thing as a shallow Ravenclaw. That's why some of the cleverest people are in Gryffindor - because they're so brave and bold that they leap in without a second thought and never stop to wonder what might happen.   
  
A Ravenclaw would think about all the consequences, and then decide whether to leap in anyway, which in their own way, makes them braver than Gryffindors."   
  
Ben considered this. "I don't really think Hermione's the type to leap in without considering the consequences," he said.  
  
"Hermione Granger? Your sister - in the fifth year?" Beatrice thought for a second. "Yes, it's puzzled a lot of people why she was in Gryffindor. Much debate about it around the dinner table." Ben frowned.  
  
"You talk about my sister around the dinner table?" Beatrice nodded.  
  
"My parents and their guests talk about all the interesting Hogwarts students at dinner. It's one of their ways of keeping in touch with the wizarding world. They like to have a little link with the next generation.   
  
Yes, they've discussed Hermione many times. I guess she's just unusual - a Gryffindor with brains like that. But what really makes her brave is her loyalty for her friends, so that ought to make her a Hufflepuff. I don't envy the Sorting Hat trying to decide where she should go - I know I'd never have been able to decide."   
  
There was silence for a second. Ben had never realised his sister was so interesting.  
  
"But she couldn't have been a Ravenclaw," continued Beatrice. "She might be clever, but she's not wise, not really. She could be, if she tried, but she won't try. She knows it's lonely to be clever, because it makes people resent you, and she knows that it's worse when you're wise. She shies away from looking at things too deeply, because she realises there are a lot of things out there that she just doesn't want to know." Beatrice paused for a second.  
  
"But you - you're different. You leap into things with your heart, not your head. You are a Ravenclaw because you're not afraid to let your heart fly and your imagination soar. Mind you, the way you kicked Drake was very brave - you could make a Gryffindor. I'd say you're definitely headed for either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. I not sure which - you could go either way. But you're no Hufflepuff, that's for sure."  
  
Ben said nothing. He felt, again, like there was nothing to say. What were you *supposed* to say, to a strange looking eleven year old girl who talked like a mixture of Shakespeare and Jesus? So, eventually, when the silence became more than he could bear, he said the first thing to come into his mind.  
  
"I'm not surprised you think you'll be a Ravenclaw, you sound extremely deep."   
  
Beatrice laughed. "That's the way I was brought up - my whole family were Ravenclaws, and they always discuss things - people, life, religion, whatever. I've been expected to hold my own in the discussions since I could talk, I guess it had to have some effect on me. But that's not how I know I'll be Ravenclaw."  
  
"How do you know?" asked Ben. But he received no answer, because at that moment, he felt a soft thump, as the boat hit the shore. He was surprised, he hadn't even noticed they were nearly there. He followed the rest of the first years through the door and into the castle, and didn't try to repeat his question, because no one was talking and he didn't want to break the silence.  
  
No one spoke whilst a woman who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall gave them instructions. She told them where to wait, and they did. They looked at each other nervously, and Ben felt his stomach tightening. What if he was put in Slytherin, with that horrible Malfoy boy? What if he wasn't put in a house at all? What if? The knot in his stomach grew tighter and tighter until Professor McGonagall came back, and led them into the hall.  
  
Then the knot untied itself and the threads that had made it began to wriggle around inside him. Everyone in the school was looking at the first years, and what could only be the Sorting Hat, sitting on a stool in the front of the room.   
  
Then, just as Ron had told him it would on the train, the hat began to sing:  
  
"If you want to get ahead  
Then you'd better get a hat.  
If you want to know where you belong  
Then I'll help you with that.   
Oh, don't judge a book by its cover  
And don't judge a hat by its brim  
Don't judge me by my rips or tears  
For I can see what is within  
I can see things deep inside you  
That you don't even notice yourself  
That's why I'm here to sort you all out  
That's why I'm not left on the shelf.  
So don't be put off by my age or my looks  
They're only skin deep after all  
And I'll look at what you are like deep inside  
And not if you're ugly or tall.  
If you are brave I will see it at once  
And know that Gryffindor's for you.  
If you have wisdom beyond your young years  
I'll know you suit Ravenclaw's blue.  
If you want power the most in the world  
You'll be Slytherin soon enough  
And if you're a good friend, a hard-working kid  
I'll see you're a true Hufflepuff.  
I know who you are, what you've done, what you've said  
You can't hide your secrets from me  
So without much ado, and without any fuss  
Let's find out where you all should be."  
  
Everyone applauded, as the hat became silent once more. Then they turned their attention back to the first years. Professor McGonagal picked up a scroll, and began to read out names. Ben didn't listen. He looked around the hall, spotting Hermione, Harry and Ron watching intently, Malfoy looking bored, and beautiful Ginny talking quietly to a friend. And then, sooner than he expected, he heard:  
  
"Granger, Benedick!"  
  
He hurried over to the stool, sat down, and placed the hat on his head. For a second, he caught Hermione's eye, and saw her crossing her fingers. She wanted him to be a Gryffindor, like her. Then the Hat fell over his eyes, and he blinked, seeing only darkness.   
  
"Let me see...." said a small, thin voice, just as Harry had described it. "Not difficult, you. I can see at once where you belong." Ben bit his lip, wondering where it was he belonged, and whether being easy to place made him simple and boring.   
  
"Not at all, Granger, Benedick, not at all. A very complex mind, you have, but your instincts give you your house. You're brave, and loyal, and with a temper like that you could be powerful. But you belong where your heart tells you to go."  
  
Ben sighed. Then he realised with a pang of curiosity that maybe the Hat could tell him why it had made Hermione a Gryffindor, and then he'd be able to tell Beatrice. No sooner had he wondered, than the voice spoke again.  
  
"No, Benedick Granger, it is not for you to know the workings of your sister's mind. I will tell you only that the heart and blood of your family makes a Ravenclaw, and has done for a long way back, but your sister insists on following her head. And whilst I don't put it in the songs, for fear of making poor old Godric turn in his grave, being headstrong and stubborn is also the marking of a true Gryffindor.   
  
You are not a friend of Godric, Benedick Granger, you follow your heart, and you heart leads you to RAVENCLAW!" The Hat shouted the last word to the entire hall, and Ben lifted the Hat off his head and grinned. The whole hall was applauding, although he could see Hermione, Ron, and Harry looking slightly disappointed. But Ben didn't care. Beatrice was right, and as he walked shakily to the Ravenclaw table, Ben felt strangely as though he was going home.  
  
Ben looked up and down the table, looking at all his fellow Ravenclaws. They did look quite deep, as Beatrice had said, but most of them seemed friendly. Two pretty girls with dark hair about his sisters age smiled at him.  
  
"Hi. Welcome to Ravenclaw," said one. Ben nodded.  
  
"Did McGonagall say you were called Benedick *Granger*?" asked the other. Ben nodded again.  
  
"Ben," he said.  
  
"Hi, I'm Padma," said the girl who'd spoken first.  
  
"And I'm Cho," said the other one. Ben grinned at them.  
  
"So, are you Hermione Granger's little brother?" they asked. Ben sighed, and nodded. He was starting to see that he might spend a lot of time being referred to as "Hermione Granger's little brother."   
  
He looked back to the Sorting Hat. Just in time to hear Professor McGonagall say the name of the next pupil to be sorted:  
  
"Ravenclaw, Beatrice!"   
  
There were a few mutters across the hall, mainly, Ben assumed, from people who hadn't been forced to read "Hogwarts: A History" by their older sisters, and therefore didn't know that Rowena was only Hogwarts founder with known family still alive. Rowena had never married, but the Ravenclaws were a very old, rich, respected wizard family descended directly from Rowena's elder brother, Roland, who married his cousin Rosaline.   
  
In fact, the Ravenclaws were an old family even in those days, a family of Celtic warriors originating from Scotland, with a family tree like the whomping willow - lots of branches and sometimes vicious. Rowena and Roland changed their family forever, for they were unusual children and prized learning and knowledge over swords and fighting and honour.   
  
Which is perhaps why Rowena went on to jointly found a school, and Roland went on to found one of the oldest and most respected families in the wizarding world - all of whom were notorious for their wisdom and knowledge.   
  
Ben wasn't surprised to hear of a being Ravenclaw alive, like some people seemed to be, but he hadn't realised there would be any at Hogwarts, let alone in his year. And he certainly hadn't guessed it would be Beatrice.   
  
Now that he thought about it, though, it seemed obvious. She had proved on the boat that she had all the qualities of a Ravenclaw, not least because she knew what the qualities of a Ravenclaw were. But still she didn't seem like a descendent of the Ravenclaws - shouldn't she want to go into the ministry and change the world for the better, like her noble ancestors? Ben didn't think wanting to be a singer was a normal career for a Ravenclaw.  
  
There was silence across the hall now, as Beatrice picked up the hat. But before she had even placed it on her head, at the mere touch of her small hand, it sang out:  
  
"RAVENCLAW!" There was scattered applause, but most people were looking eagerly at McGonagall for the next pupil to be sorted - it wasn't like anyone was surprised to hear where Beatrice belonged.  
  
She walked over to the table, grinning as usual, and sat down next to Ben.  
  
"What did I tell you?" she asked. Ben nodded, as he saw McGonagall rolling up her scroll and carrying the Hat and stool away.  
  
"You were right. About both of us."   
  
Beatrice grinned wider. "I'm always right."   
  
Just then, the food appeared on the plates, and Ben, looking around nervously to see if he was meant to wait to be served or help himself, saw people all over the table dishing themselves jacket potatoes, chicken pie and gravy, spaghetti bolognaise and so many different foods that Ben couldn't even name some of them. He piled some spaghetti onto his plate, and began to eat. He hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast, because he had forgotten to pack lunch in his nervousness, and Hermione had told him not to eat the food on the train, as it was "filled with sugar and what would mum and dad say?"  
  
He was half way through his second helping, when Cho and Padma began to talk to him again. Padma spoke first.  
  
"I heard you told Harry Potter and Ron Weasley that Hermione thinks they're gorgeous..." she began. Ben resisted the temptation to roll his eyes - it seemed that even "deep" Ravenclaws weren't above spreading gossip.   
  
"Did you?" asked Cho.  
  
Ben didn't really want to create rumours about his sister, but he didn't want to tell them to get lost either - apart from Beatrice, they were the only people who'd made the effort to talk to him, and he felt he could do with as many friends as possible.  
  
"Um, kinda," he said, trying to be vague. If he was vague, it wasn't his fault. They looked shocked, but intrigued.  
  
"Well, does she?" asked Padma expectantly.  
  
"Does who what?" asked Ben, hoping to confuse them.  
  
"Does Hermione Granger think Harry and Ron Weasley are good looking?" asked Cho. Ben felt a little uncomfortable. Other people, mainly girls, were looking their way now, obviously interested.  
  
"I, uh, I'm not really sure..."  
  
"But you think...?" Ben was pretty sure the girl sitting opposite Padma was trying to put words into his mouth.   
  
"I, uh, she might, I don't know." The girl introduced herself.  
  
"Hi, I'm Mandy Brocklehurst. So, what makes you think that she, uh, *might*?" Ben looked at all the expectant faces.  
  
"Well, uh, I kind of overheard her talking to her Muggle friend Emily, but anyway, why do you all care?" Mandy's big blue eyes looked hurt, and she tossed her dyed-red hair over her shoulders.  
  
"We were just trying to make conversation. Sor-ry," she looked away. Cho and Padma also turned away and began talking to a boy on the other side of them.  
  
Ben turned to Beatrice, who was looking at him sympathetically.   
  
"Sorry Ben, girls are bitches. And these girls are clever enough that they don't have to put too much thought into their school work, so they have thoughts to spare. Unfortunately, they don't have morality to spare, so they tend to use those thoughts to twist what people say and spread malicious gossip." Ben bit his lip.  
  
"I thought it was Slytherins who were horrible?" he said. Beatrice looked at him sadly.  
  
"It's Slytherins who are evil and power hungry. Anybody can be mean or cruel or thoughtless. Especially teenagers who aren't old enough to know better."   
  
Ben looked down at his plate.  
  
"Look, there's nothing you can do." Beatrice said. "Just keep trying to be a good person yourself, and leave them to karma. If they want to be bitches, let them - it'll catch up with them in the end."   
  
Ben smiled, knowing she was right, but he still felt uneasy about the way people all down the table were whispering and pointing over at a certain Gryffindor fifth year girl. He liked even less how some of these people were leaning over to the adjacent Slytherin table and whispering again...  
  
*  
  
"May I have your attention?" Professor Dumbledore stood up. "I hope you all enjoyed our feast, I believe the house elves have surpassed themselves this year."   
  
Even from his seat at the Ravenclaw table, Ben could see his sister stiffen at these words and Ron and Harry look at her in an amusement. Ben didn't blame them. Hermione had spent most of the summer writing letters to obscure sub-departments of the Ministry, trying to campaign single-handedly for elf-rights, even though it was obvious to everyone except her that she was fighting a losing battle.  
  
"I would like to welcome all our new first years to Hogwarts - I hope your years here will be as happy as mine continue to be. I hope this school will be to all students - old and new alike - a safe haven and a place of refuge, for there are troubled times ahead." There was always silence whilst the headmaster spoke, but this was a different type of silence - everyone was serious and solemn all of a sudden. Even Dumbledore's twinkling eyes held no laughter.  
  
"I don't know how much you all know about the changes that are taking place in our world," he continued "but I will not lie to you. The Dark Lord is back, even though the Ministry doesn't want you to know. You will, I'm sure, hear many rumours about this fact, and so, before you hear them, I wish to set the record straight. Lord Voldemort is back in power. As of yet, we do not know what his plans are. But I do know that every one of you is safe within the walls of this school.   
  
I cannot make you do anything. I can only beg you to listen when I say that I am not fond of rules and restrictions, and I would rather not have any. But every rule in this school has been put in place for your own safety and if you follow the rules, I can guarantee you safety from Lord Voldemort.  
  
I must ask you to stay out of the forbidden forest, and all Hogsmeade trips have been cancelled." Dumbledore waited, as though expecting a groan, but none came. Somehow, an unspoken message was filling the room in the silence, and every one of the pupils could sense the gravity of the situation, even those who didn't fully understand it.  
  
"I know this speech is in many way futile, for those most at risk are the people who I know are least likely to follow the rules."   
  
Ben could have sworn he saw Dumbledore's eyes flicker briefly to where Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting   
  
"All I can ask is for you to bear in mind how much getting yourself into mortal peril will hurt and worry those you leave behind.  
  
Many people learn many things at this school. It is not, nor has it ever been, a place devoted only to the instruction of children on specific subjects. Hogwarts is a true school, because it is a living, breathing being, with an atmosphere of knowledge and wisdom, that can teach you so much more than what you learn in your classes. I hope that the coming year and the challenges and hardships it will bring will teach you the value of staying loyal to the Light side, and doing what you know is Right.   
  
Though of course I hope to be wrong, I think many of you may be faced with much pain before the year is out. I ask those of you who will be, in comparison, the lucky ones, to help and support those in trouble, for in times such as these all we have to rely on is each other."   
  
Dumbledore's face was sad and imploring, it seemed almost like he was begging his students for something. And Ben wanted so much to give him what it was he wanted, to fulfil what it was the old man was hoping for, but he didn't really know what it was. He didn't fully understand what was going on in the wizarding world, but he felt a pang of fear and uncertainty in his heart when he thought about this Dark Lord and whatever it was he might try to do.  
  
"I don't want to frighten you, but you are not children anymore, and you deserve to know what is coming. There will be fear, and there will be pain, and there will be hatred. But I beg every one of you to remember that the only way to beat these evils is not to join them. I have sometimes been called the strongest wizard of our time. I don't know whether or not I deserve that title or not, it is not up to me to decide, but I do know that even if I were the greatest wizard in the world, I couldn't fight what is coming. Because this is not something to be done alone. This is not a fight that *I* can win. It is a fight that *we* can win - if, and only if, we have each other, and we can fight the hate and discord of Lord Voldemort with our friendship and love." Dumbledore sat down, looking tired and drained.   
  
As he sat there, looking at a tired old man who had fought bravely and wisely so many years before, and now was getting up to do it all again, Ben had never felt so much admiration and respect.   
  
*  
  
The students began to leave the hall in dribs and drabs, a trickle of people moving slowly away, still solemn and serious. Ben sat for a while, not really knowing where he was meant to go, then:  
  
"Are you two coming?" Cho asked, her prefects' badge glinting in the light. Ben and Beatrice got up from the table, and joined her and the other first year Ravenclaws. She led them out of the main doors and down a corridor, but as they left the hall, Ben was sure he heard someone whisper:  
  
"Did you hear about Hermione Granger...?"  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: You think this is mine? *Sings* I should be so lucky, lucky, lucky lucky....   



	2. *So Much Fun*

A/N Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed. *Sobs* you're all so kind...g Especially thank you to the people who told me how I could improve. I need to know that, otherwise I get too cocky! Lol. NB. There's a thanks section at the end for all you beautiful reviewers.  
  
I would like to make one point now, though. I don't hate Cho Chang. I get really annoyed at the fics where she's evil. Looking back at it, I can see that I wasn't very nice to her in chapter one, but it wasn't personal. I just wanted to make the point that girls her age gossip (I should know, I am one) and it's not nice. I don't mean I don't do it, cos I do, but it's still not nice. I didn't, however mean that she was a bad person for doing that, she just has a bad habit. So does everyone. It was in my outline to characterise her more in this chapter anyway, so you'll be seeing more of her. I do like her. Promise!   
  
Also, several people said there were places where I went off the point and waffled too much. I know I do this, and I can't stop myself, so I'm sorry and I'll try and keep it to a minimum, but thanks for pointing it out!   
  
Finally, I'm afraid begging for your ship preferences will get you nowhere. I might be convinced towards H/C or H/G, or H/Someone obscure, but H/H isn't going to happen. Sorry folks. But anyway, there will be small amounts of fluff in this, but only as a sub-plot - this is not a romance, and so it doesn't really matter if you ship differently to me cos the point of the story is not to ship one way or another.   
  
Oh, and one last thing -Beatrice says she's open to suggestions about what you'd like her to sing. It has to be something she knows the words to, obv, but if you want to review and suggest a song, she'll consider everything. (She's a big fan of musicals, so if you suggest something like that she says she'll do her best to oblige.)  
  
Phew - that was long Author's note, sorry. Anyhue, on with the story...   
  
  
  
Ben Granger And The Legacy Of Icarus  
  
By Helmione Nightingranger  
  
Dedicated to Parker, the best beta reader in the world! g  
  
  
"I hate to spread rumours, but what else can one do with them?" Amanda Lear  
  
Chapter II - *So Much Fun*  
  
All Ben could see when he woke up was black. For some reason his bed felt strange, different. It was so dark - it must be very early still. He reached out sleepily to switch his bedside lamp on, so that he could see what time it was.  
  
His fingers found something with short rough fur. Something huge, because he moved his hands up and down and sideways, and he couldn't find the edge. It was soft. He pushed gently. It moved. He held his breath - maybe this was a nightmare - there couldn't be a huge furry animal in his bedroom, could there? That was silly.  
  
He pulled and pushed the furry thing frantically this way and that, until suddenly - light. It hit his eyes like an electric shock, and he blinked. And then he saw the dormitory, the other beds with heavy velvet curtains. And all around him, instead of black, a sea of Ravenclaw blue.   
  
Of course. He wasn't in his bedroom. He was at Hogwarts, and the furry indigo drapes around his four poster bed let not one tiny shred of light in. Ben sighed. What a way to wake up on your first day.   
  
He looked at the tiny magical sundial on the table next to his bed. It had been a present from Hermione for Christmas last year - it had a detachable strap so you could wear it on your wrist like a watch, or stand it up on the table. It was carved in grey marble, bewitched to be feather-light, and set with tiny glowing roman numerals. It had a charm on it to cast a shadow even when there was no sunlight, and if you pressed a miniscule red stone on the side, the date, longitude, latitude, phase of the moon, and colour of your socks flashed respectively along the front edge.   
  
It read a few minutes after seven o'clock, and when he pressed the button, "date: Wednesday 2nd September ~ longitude: 3o W, latitude: 55o ~ moon: first quarter ~ socks: none." He grinned, and looked down at his bare feet.   
  
Hermione said that the last bit had probably been put in as a quality control test, so you could tell if the sundial was malfunctioning, but Ben, who enjoyed random craziness and contradicting his sister, insisted it was added in by some crazy wizard inventor who just really *liked* socks.   
  
Having been to Diagon Alley last week to buy his school things, and seen the sort of people that lived in the wizarding world, Ben had come to the conclusion he was probably right.  
  
Seeing as he was awake, Ben thought he might as well get up, so he rubbed his eyes, and went to find the bathroom. He had a little trouble getting the shower to work, as it was temperamental and refused to get warmer until he said please. He wasn't entirely sure he was happy with washing in a shower that was alive, but after it promised not to look at him, and realising that there was no other option, Ben washed and found that, after it was spoken to courteously, the shower was actually quite pleasant.   
  
Ben got out of the shower, and got dressed, girly Hogwarts robes and all. He was just putting on his left sock (yellow, as his sundial particularly liked brighter colours, and would add stars after its little display if he wore yellow socks) when a bell sounded in his ears, and a head poked through the curtains of a bed on the opposite of the room.   
  
It was Jeremiah Mint, a boy who had introduced himself to Ben last night. As Jeremiah half stepped, half rolled out of bed, the other two boys in the dormitory, Fabian Dan and Westerly Blue, both appeared between their curtains.  
  
"Morning!" said Ben. Jeremiah grunted in response. The others just looked at him, and began trying to disentangle themselves from their curtains. Ben grinned - he wasn't exactly a morning person himself, but after his shower he felt quite awake, and it was very funny watching his dorm-mates trying to force themselves back to consciousness.   
  
Suddenly, Ben realised how hungry he was. He decided to go straight down to breakfast rather than wait for anyone, as he didn't know any of the boys yet, but Hermione was probably at the Gryffindor table already and he could probably talk to her.  
  
He headed down the spiral staircase to the huge Ravenclaw common room. It was a light, airy room, with lots of windows which seemed, somehow, all to face east, because as he entered the room the pink and yellow sunrise surrounded him on all sides. It was a nice room, it felt like something out of a water-colour painting, delicate and subtle.   
  
He was just heading for the wall, when he noticed someone sitting in a corner staring out of the window, singing softly,  
  
"Wake me up, before you go-go  
Don't leave me hangin' on like a yo-yo..."  
  
"Morning Beatrice!" he called.  
  
She turned, looking very cheerful. But then, she always did.  
  
"I've been up for hours, and I was waiting for you to come down!" she said. She skipped over to him, and they both walked to the wall at the end of the long room.  
  
"Acumen!" they said in chorus. The wall and the small area of tiled floor in front of it swung round until they were standing outside in the corridor. They looked around, and, seeing that no one was there, stepped off the tiles and heard it sweep back around.   
  
"Why have you been up for hours?" asked Ben.   
  
Beatrice shrugged. "No reason, really. I always wake up early. I love to sit near the window and listen to the birds singing. Sunrise is the nicest time of the day. And wouldn't it be *so* much fun to be a bird and fly in a multi-coloured sky like that?"  
  
Ben nodded vaguely. He was beginning to wonder if Beatrice actually talked deliberately, or if she just left her mouth to flap up and down randomly. Surely nobody could have this much to say?  
  
Beatrice was still saying something or other about dawn skies when they entered the Great Hall, to find a grey ceiling. Ben was surprised - where he lived, in the south of England, it was still warm and summer like, but if the bewitched ceiling was that colour, it must be very cold up here in Scotland. Now that he thought about it, it was quite draughty, and he was very glad of his Hogwarts robes over his clothes, even if he did look like slightly effeminate.  
  
He looked at his sundial - it was twenty five to eight. Beatrice sat down at the Ravenclaw table, still humming George Michael, and was just about to help herself to toast when she saw that Ben hadn't sat down with her. He had found Hermione, (with Ron and Harry) at the Gryffindor table and was saying good morning. Seeing where he was, Beatrice scrambled up and followed him.  
  
"Hi Hermione!" he said. She turned around.   
  
"Oh, hi Ben." She looked at Beatrice. "Who's this?" she asked.   
  
"This is Beatrice," said Ben.   
  
Hermione smiled. She hadn't forgotten his "introduction" at the station yesterday. "Found a girlfriend already, have you?" Ben flushed and said nothing. "What's it like in Ravenclaw?" Hermione continued. "Shame you're not a Gryffindor - I did cross my fingers for you."   
  
Beatrice bristled. "There's nothing wrong with Ravenclaw!"   
  
Hermione bit her lip, realising what she'd said. Or rather, who she'd said it to. "I, uh, of course not, I just - "  
  
Ben grinned. He'd never seen his sister at a loss for words before.  
  
"Of course there's nothing wrong with Ravenclaw. I like Ravenclaws," said Harry, obviously trying to sound nonchalant. Ron choked on his pumpkin juice, and Hermione became very interested in her cereal, so that Harry wouldn't see her giggle.  
  
"What?" asked Harry.   
  
Ron swallowed and grinned. "Nothing, Harry."   
  
"What?" demanded Harry.   
  
"It's just that - well, we all know how much *you* like Ravenclaws - especially the girls..." said Ron. Harry went red and muttered something.   
  
"Oh, you like *clever* Ravenclaw-ish girls, do you Harry?" Ben asked, deciding to fight fire with fire. He leant forward, hand covering his mouth and said in a stage "confidential" whisper to Harry, "Well, I'll give you a tip - Hermione likes boys to be romantic, so buy her a couple of bunches of flowers and you're in there mate!"   
  
"Ben!" Hermione punched Ben in the arm. Ben just laughed, and went back over to the Ravenclaw table, Beatrice following close behind.  
  
Back at the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang and fellow prefect Douglas Carter were handing out timetables. Ben and Beatrice hurried over, eager to see what lessons they were to have that day. Ben grabbed his first, and scanned it quickly.  
  
"Double History of Magic first...then Potions...then Transfiguration after lunch," He reported, looking disappointed.   
  
"What's the matter?" asked Beatrice.  
  
"I was hoping to have a flying lesson soon - I'm really looking forward to it - but we don't seem to have one at all," explained Ben.   
  
"It's not in our timetable, it'll be up on the notice board when we're supposed to have our lesson. And anyway, flying's not that much fun really," said Beatrice, "I learnt at home - I really wanted to learn, but my parents made me wait until I was nine, and it was a huge disappointment. It's so hard to make the broomstick do what you want it to, and half the time you just feel like you're going to nosedive!"   
  
Ben bit his lip. She was probably right, she'd flown before so she should know, and he knew Hermione didn't like flying either, so maybe it wasn't as much fun as he imagined. Still, he couldn't give up hoping - ever since Hermione had told him about how Harry was "discovered" in his first flying lesson, Ben had secretly dreamed of sitting on his broomstick and soaring into the skies, naturally talented. After this, of course, he would be whisked away to become a Quidditch hero and win the cup for Ravenclaw. Maybe he would even go on to become a professional Quidditch player and world famous and extremely rich.  
  
It certainly made a very nice dream. And no matter what Beatrice said, Ben couldn't wait to try flying - *just in case*.  
  
Ben put his timetable on the table, sat down, and poured himself a bowl of cornflakes (covered in sugar, as Mr and Mrs "Dentist of the Year" Granger weren't here to stop him). He began to eat them, still dreaming of world renown, when suddenly the room was full of owls. It took him a moment to remember that this was how the post was delivered in the wizarding world. He looked upwards - it was an amazing sight - so many owls of different shapes and sizes. Then he caught sight of one that looked familiar - a tiny grey owl carrying a large package which headed for the Gryffindor table.   
  
Ben watched as the owl landed by Ginny's plate, and then suddenly he remembered - it must be bringing her book from home. Ben could remember Ginny's voice perfectly as she said it - "I left my copy of 'Through The Purple Mist: Scrying For Beginners' at home." Scrying. Ben didn't know what it was, but it sounded beautiful and mysterious and glamorous - just like Ginny.   
  
He watched as she gracefully detached the heavy book from the owl's leg, ruffled its feathers, and laughed as it took off again. Ben sighed - she had such a beautiful laugh - like fairy bells and running water and -   
  
"Pretty, isn't she?" Beatrice's voice shattered Ben's stream of conscious. He shook his head dopily, trying to concentrate on Beatrice instead of a certain red-head.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"Virginia Weasley - I said she's pretty, isn't she?"   
  
"Um, yeah, I guess," said Ben, trying to sound offhand, "I hadn't really noticed."  
  
Beatrice grinned. "That's why you've been staring at her for the past ten minutes, is it?" She giggled. "Ben's in lu-rve!" she sang.  
  
"Shut up!" Ben hissed. Beatrice smiled evilly, and carried on eating her toast and marmalade.  
  
*  
  
They waited outside the History of Magic classroom with anticipation - their first ever magic lesson was about to begin.  
  
"Hermione said this class is taught by a ghost!" said Ben - he was looking forward to it, he'd seen some ghosts last night, but none up close.  
  
"No it's not," said Beatrice "Binns retired at the end of last year - they've got a new teacher straight out of Governia Proficium College for Witches to come and teach."  
  
"What's that?" asked Ben curiously.  
  
"It's a post Hogwarts college - most witches and wizards don't go to college, but if you want to become a professor, you have to have some sort of higher qualification. I'm not sure what this Professor is like, but my parents heard she got the highest grades in her year, so she should be good."  
  
"Go in, please," said a smiling voice. Ben and Beatrice whirled around to see a woman with tailored baby-blue robes, blonde hair with the texture of candy-floss, and lips painted coral pink. They filed into the classroom, and Beatrice sat at a desk near the window, tugging on Ben's robes until he sat down next to her.   
  
When the entire class (Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs) were seated, Ms candy-floss and coral stood in front of her desk, and cast a quiet charm on the chalk, which leapt to life and began to write on the blackboard.   
  
"Hello class, I'm Professor Jacqueline Lennox," she said, beaming, pointing to her name, which the chalk underlined with a flourish. "This is my first day of teaching, and your first day of school, so I expect we're both feeling a little nervous." She smiled even wider, perhaps thinking it might reassure them. "I want to make your History of Magic lessons as interesting and educational as possible - but most of all *fun*" she giggled.   
  
Ben was starting to wonder if this woman was for real.   
  
"Now, I remember my History of Magic lessons at Hogwarts, and they were *boring*. I don't want to teach you about yucky goblin rebellions or nasty violent wars, so Professor Dumbledore has kindly agreed to let me teach you something *much more fun* - the ancient Greek wizards! We're going to do a project from now until Christmas, and it'll be *so much fun*!   
  
I just want to tell you before we begin that I don't like rules, but when people are noisy or nasty to other people, it makes me *sad*. So I'm going to promise you that if you play fair by *me*, I'll play fair by *you*!" She looked around the room at the rows of blank faces. "I just *know* we're going to get along *wonderfully*!"   
  
Perhaps Professor Jacqueline Lennox had been hoping for a more enthusiastic response than the disbelieving silence which followed her sugary monologue, as she sat down behind her desk looking ever so slightly downcast, though she was still somehow showing all her straight white teeth.  
  
"If you'll all get out your textbooks, and begin researching the Greeks, I want you to make a list in pairs of five facts you find that are *interesting*," she said, struggling a little to keep the brightness in her voice "and in fifteen minutes we'll all share what we've found."   
  
Ben pulled his textbook ("Grand Greeks And Exhilarating Egyptians - An Exciting And Educational Look At The Ancient Magical Cultures") out of his bag and turned to Beatrice.  
  
"You did say she got the top grades in her year?" asked Ben incredulously.   
  
Beatrice looked quite stunned. "Yeah - mother said the Ministry are thinking of making all trainee professors take a course in inter-personal skills, but evidently they haven't put it into practise yet. She's dreadful, quite dreadful." She was still gazing in horror at Professor Lennox.   
  
Ben laughed. "Oh, come on, she's not *that* bad." Beatrice said nothing, she just pointed to the front of the room. Ben looked.  
  
Professor Lennox was leaning over Jeremiah Mint and Fabian Dan's table, exclaiming loudly:  
  
"Why yes, that's *right*! Aristotle was one of the greatest wizards ever known! Well done boys, you're making an *excellent* start!"  
  
"Ok, maybe she *is* that bad..." said Ben. "But look on the bright side - if she fails at teaching, she'll make a *great* Sesame Street presenter!"   
  
"Where's Sesame Street?" asked Beatrice.  
  
Ben sighed. His magical schooling had begun.  
  
*  
  
After History of Magic (sponsored by the letter B and the number 10), Ben and Beatrice made their way to Potions. Ben had been dreading this - Hermione had told him all about the evil Potions Master Snape.   
  
So he was very surprised when they reached the dungeons to find a woman in long grey business robes sitting at the desk.   
  
"Come in, come in, you're a little late," she said to them. The first year Ravenclaws hurried in to see that the Gryffindors had taken all the seats at the back. Ben didn't blame them - whoever this woman was, she seemed to be a formidable character.   
  
"Good morning," she said briskly, when everyone had found a desk. "I am Professor Figg. I am not your Potions teacher, but Professor Snape has been called away, and I'm filling in for him until he gets back. Right, today we will be making a simple antihistamine potion. I hope you all have your cauldrons and your basic potions kit with you - you will need one feather," she wrote the ingredients on the board as she spoke "two millilitres of water which you can get from the tap at the back, one spoonful of golden syrup (I have that at the front, you can come and get it when your water has boiled)..." Ben was distracted from what Professor Figg was saying by the puzzled look on Beatrice's face.  
  
"What's the matter?" he hissed.  
  
"and you will also need....no talking! I expect you to listen to what I'm saying!" Professor Figg seemed to have the hearing of a bat, and under her harsh glare, Ben didn't dare try to talk again.  
  
He waited until they were paired up, watching for the syrup in their potions to mix with the water, before asking again.   
  
"Oh, it doesn't matter," was the reply. Ben said nothing, but Beatrice carried on anyway.  
  
"It's just...silly to worry really, but I've never heard of her."  
  
"What?" asked Ben. "Never heard of who?"  
  
"Professor Figg. I've never heard a Professor Figg mentioned, and I've heard of all the other teachers. And I want to know where Severus is, too."  
  
"Severus?"   
  
"The potions master, Severus Snape," Beatrice said, dismissing Ben's ignorance with a wave of her hand. "He's an old friend of my family."  
  
"Snape is your *friend*?" asked Ben, shocked. "Hermione said he's really evil and horrible."  
  
Beatrice laughed. "He's not the friendliest person in the world, but he's alright. You can count on him to do the Right Thing." Ben said nothing. Hermione had said he used to serve You-Know-Who, and in Ben's mind that certainly didn't count as the Right Thing.  
  
They mixed all the rest of the ingredients into the syrup and water, stirring it with the feather, as it began to cool.   
  
"It looks good. A little too thick, maybe. Add a drop more water and you'll be fine. Very good," Professor Figg seemed content with their potion and was about to move on to the next table, but Beatrice stopped her.  
  
"Um, if you don't mind me asking, Professor..." she began "if you're filling in for Sev - Professor Snape, what do you usually teach?"   
  
Professor Figg said nothing for a moment, then she answered, "I don't. I'm retired." Then she walked away without another word, but Beatrice didn't look satisfied.  
  
*  
  
After Potions it was lunchtime. Ben walked into the Great Hall feeling quite exhausted - he'd never quite realised magic would be this tiring.  
  
He looked around for Hermione - he imagined she'd want to hear all about his lessons - but she didn't seem to be there, so he sat down at the Ravenclaw table, and found Jeremiah Mint and Fabian Dan having an argument about whether or not the Chudley Cannons were better than the Falmouth Falcons.   
  
Ben grinned - he loved football, and was an avid Chelsea supporter. He'd tried to get Hermione to tell him all about the different Quidditch teams so he could support one of those too, but Hermione had said (to Ben's disgust) that she didn't know anything about Quidditch and he'd better look it up in a book.  
  
"What Quidditch teams are there?" he asked, when Jem and Fabian had finally finished arguing.  
  
"Well..." began Fabian, and he began a long description of Quidditch - the teams, the players, pretty much anything even vaguely Quidditch orientated, with Jem and Beatrice interrupting every now and then when they thought he'd forgotten something.  
  
Ben listened eagerly. Quidditch sounded even better than Chelsea.  
  
"...and I was at the Cup last year, and it was really amazing, and Viktor Krum is absolutely *brilliant*!"   
  
Ben laughed, remembering. Viktor Krum. That was another of the names he'd caught when he'd "overheard" Hermione's long conversations with her Muggle friend Emily over the summer which she always seemed to have when he was in his very thin walled room.   
  
That was where he heard her talking about Harry and Ron as well. Ben bit his lip, as he remembered last night. Still, nothing had come of it, no one seemed to be talking about Hermione today, so it had all blown over.  
  
Of course, whenever he'd heard the name "Harry" mentioned in Hermione's room, he'd also heard the name "Cho" or "Ginny." He thought it was quite funny that poor Harry seemed to be chasing Cho. He also thought that Harry was completely mad not to like Ginny when she liked him - did he not *have* eyes?   
  
As for Cho, the Ravenclaws had a system where each first year was assigned a prefect who they were supposed to go to if they had any problems or worries, and Cho was "Ben's" prefect. He quite liked her, but she wasn't half as beautiful as Ginny.   
  
Ginny. Even her name was beautiful. He wished she was a prefect and he could talk to her - she seemed so kind and friendly and he wished -   
  
"Ben!" He looked up. It was Ginny.   
  
For a moment he just sat with his mouth open, but eventually he managed to choke out, "uh, w-what?"  
  
"I, um, I think you ought to come with me," she said softly.  
  
"Sure, why?" Ben was intrigued.  
  
"It's about Hermione." Ben got up and followed Ginny out of the Hall without another word.   
  
*  
  
As they entered the empty classroom, Ben saw Hermione sitting at a desk with her head in her hands. Harry and Ron were standing awkwardly next to her.   
  
"Well, you didn't mind last year with Daily Prophet..." said Harry, looking a bit puzzled. "You kept telling me to ignore it, and you were right, that's what you should do now." Hermione looked up at him.  
  
"That was different..." she said miserably. "That was just Rita Skeeter, and everybody knew she was making it up. Everybody believes this...did you know Fred and George came up to me earlier and asked if it was true?"   
  
Ron looked surprised. "Really? Fred and George? But that's ridiculous, they know perfectly well that you...I mean, that we...I mean..." He didn't seem to be able to get the words out. Hermione sighed.  
  
"They assume because it's someone who knows me saying it, it must be right."  
  
Ginny coughed quietly to let them know she and Ben were there. Hermione looked up immediately, and stared at Ben.   
  
Ben knew that look. That look was never a good thing.   
  
"Ben. I've been hearing some very strange things this morning..." said Hermione in an unnaturally calm voice, as she stood up.   
  
"Some people seem to think that I'm madly in love with not one but *both* of my best friends, and that I'm so depressed that they don't love me back that I slashed my wrists and now have to have counselling from a Muggle called Emily. Now, I don't particularly like to hear *vicious rumours* about myself, and I'd *quite* like to work out how such *humiliating lies* could have been spread around the whole school."  
  
Ben gulped. Hermione's eyes were cold as ice with the Granger-women's trademark Evil Stare Of Death.  
  
"I don't suppose you would know anything about it, would you?" she continued. "Because Parvati tells me she heard it from her sister Padma who *swears* she was told directly by you. Does that ring any bells? Well, does it?"  
  
Ben swallowed again. He tried to think of something to say to her, but the only word in his mind was, "Oops."  
  
This was the wrong thing to say. Hermione began to shout.  
  
"What did you think you were doing spreading rumours about me? How dare you? And where in the world did you get stupid ideas like that anyway?"  
  
"I-I, uh, I"  
  
"I'm waiting." Hermione sighed impatiently. "Have you any idea how humiliating this is? Malfoy's been calling me Little Miss Lovesick all day and asking to see the scars on my wrists. People keep asking me how I'm feeling now and telling me that if I want to talk I know where they are. Ben, I hate being pitied even when I have a problem, you know that, but the whole school's feeling sorry for me for no reason. It's so embarrassing! How could you put me in this position?"  
  
She didn't look angry anymore. She looked hurt, which was ten times worse. Ben couldn't bear seeing his sister unhappy like this.  
  
He didn't say a word. Hermione pushed past him, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks, and swept out of the classroom. Harry and Ron rushed after her, and so, after casting a disgusted look in his direction, did Ginny.   
  
Ben sat down on the nearest table, feeling utterly miserable.  
  
*  
  
He had dragged himself through Transfiguration, though the Professor seemed extremely disappointed to find out that he wasn't as good as Hermione. In fact, he appeared to be the worst in the class. Beatrice had spent the entire lesson trying to find out what was wrong with him, and he'd spent the entire lesson trying not to tell her - she would just tell him to leave them to karma again, and that didn't really help him much.  
  
He didn't like talking about his feelings. He didn't want to explain this whole thing to Beatrice, or anyone else really. But he wished there was something he could do about it.  
  
He sat in the common room after supper, staring at his first ever piece of magical homework (to write up making the antihistamine potion for Potions) and doing nothing. He didn't even cheer up when Beatrice told him about the notice she'd found saying flying lessons would start next Monday. He just smiled weakly, and said nothing.  
  
"Look what's up?" asked Beatrice, for what must have been the hundredth time.  
  
"Nothing. Look, I'm going to go and find someone, ok?" he said. A thought had just occurred to him. Beatrice looked a bit hurt that he wasn't going to tell her.  
  
"OK," she muttered glumly. Ben sighed - the last thing he needed was for her to be upset too. He watched as she picked up her own Potions homework, humming softly to herself and tapping her foot on the ground as she began to write.  
  
Ben smiled - if she was singing "The Rain In Spain Stays Mainly In The Plain" she couldn't be that annoyed with him. It felt good to smile - he'd almost forgotten how in the past few hours.   
  
It just seemed wrong, somehow, for Hermione to be upset with him. He hated arguing with his family, and though he wouldn't have told anyone for all the Galleons in Gringotts it hurt him to think he'd made Hermione cry.  
  
He walked out of the wall, and found his way (after a few wrong turns) to the huge doors that led outside to the grounds.  
  
He pulled them open, and set off into the twilight, to explore the grounds. He knew the Quidditch pitch must be out here somewhere, and it couldn't be that hard to find.   
  
He hadn't gone more than a few paces when he heard voices. He stopped still, and looked around. The light was fading, but he could see a whole group of people coming towards him, all talking and laughing. As they drew nearer, he recognised them - Roger Davis and the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.  
  
"Um..." he began. They looked down at him, as though suddenly noticing he was there. "Um, hi," said Ben.  
  
"Hi," they all said.  
  
"Is, uh, is Cho with you?" Ben asked, feeling rather intimidated by finding himself being stared at by six people at once, all of them at least a foot taller than himself.  
  
"No, she's still on the pitch, said she wanted to do a bit more flying," said Davis, the tallest of all.   
  
"Thanks," said Ben, and he walked off, anxious to get away from their stares.  
  
"Must be her first year." He heard one of them say as he hurried away.  
  
*  
  
A single candle was shining, dimly lighting what could only be the Quidditch pitch - a large rectangle of grass with three big posts at either end. Ben looked up, and saw a dark shape fly slowly over his head.   
  
"Uh, Cho?" he called uncertainly upwards. His voice seemed to get lost in the air somewhere, but the dark shape heard it, because it swooped back over him and landed gracefully on the grass a few feet in front of the light. Cho, facing away from him, held onto her broomstick like a walking cane for a second, one hand touching her face, then she turned round.  
  
"Yes? Oh, hi Ben, what can I do for you?" She sounded cheerful, but it didn't take Ben two shakes of a Snidget's tail to work out that she'd been crying. He didn't have two older sisters for nothing.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked awkwardly.   
  
Cho looked slightly surprised. "Um, yeah, I'm fine," she said smiling weakly. "I just...no, never mind."  
  
Ben couldn't seem to stop himself asking, "What?"   
  
Hermione had told him about the death of Cedric Diggory last year, and Diggory's relationship with Cho was one of the many secrets that he'd listened to through the wall. He guessed that was what she must be upset about, but he had no idea what to say to her, so as soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted them.  
  
Cho sighed.  
  
"I was just thinking about my friend Cedric...I suppose you've heard all about that?"   
  
Ben nodded. A tear appeared at the corner of Cho's eye, but she brushed it away impatiently.  
  
"I'm sorry," said Ben.  
  
"Don't be. You didn't do anything," Cho replied. She had a strange look on her face, as though she were a long way away. "That's what everyone says. 'Sorry.' Everyone wants to know how I'm feeling today and if I'm alright." She laughed bitterly.   
  
"I'm not made of glass. I'm a lot tougher than people think." Ben wasn't sure if she realised she was still talking. He nodded in what he hoped was a sympathetic way, wondering if he should say something. But Cho didn't seem to need him to say anything, she just wanted to talk.  
  
"You know the other thing everyone wants to know? They ask me if I loved him. For some reason everyone wants to make us into bloody Romeo and Juliet, but we weren't. I liked him a lot. I mean, he was a nice guy. But I'm only sixteen years old, how am I supposed to know if I loved him?   
  
I don't think I did, not really, not yet. But what keeps making me cry is wondering if maybe I would have loved him, given time. I don't know. I'll never know." She sighed. "It's the 'what ifs' that hurt, not the memories.   
  
People always ask about me. They seem to forget that I'm still alive, that Cedric's the one they should feel sorry for. He was a good guy, and he didn't deserve to die, but I'm glad, in a strange kind of way. He always wanted to be a hero - and he was. Not in the same way as Harry is. He wasn't famous, he didn't triumph over evil and he didn't get his happy ever after. But he was still a hero. Still *my* hero."  
  
Still, Ben said nothing. He had never thought of things this way before - the stories Hermione told him of her brushes with the Dark Side were scary, and exciting, but though no tale was the same as the one before, they all had one recurring theme - a happy ending. Harry the Hero always made it home, Ron and Hermione always managed to work out the puzzle and win the fight, and he, Ben, admired them so much for all they'd done.  
  
But now he began to wonder if maybe the real heroes were the unsung heroes, who did what had to be done, when it had to be done, regardless of the consequences. The ones who died whilst stepping aside so someone else could go on and save the world.  
  
Cho shook her head suddenly, as though trying to wake up. She looked embarrassed.  
  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said all this to you," she muttered.  
  
"It's fine," said Ben, who was used to girls being upset and was quite happy as long as he wasn't expected to say anything. "I have two sisters whose lives fall apart at regular intervals, I don't mind listening."   
  
Cho bit her lip. "Even so, you shouldn't have to. I don't mean this is an offensive way, but you're still a kid, and I get the feeling you're going to be made to grow up far to quickly, I shouldn't be making it worse. If the Dark Side has its way, we're all going to be growing up soon." She sighed. "So, you didn't come out here to listen to me whine, did you want to ask me something?" She smiled.   
  
Ben suddenly remembered what had happened earlier.   
  
"Well, you said we should come and talk to our prefect if we were worried, and I..."  
  
"What's worrying you?" asked Cho.   
  
Ben didn't know quite where to begin. He almost wished he hadn't come to talk to Cho - he felt so stupid, talking about his "worries." He shouldn't be worrying about anything. He should sort out his own problems. Besides, compared to Cedric's death, Ben's problems paled into insignificance.  
  
But somehow he found himself saying, "It's Hermione."  
  
"Your sister? What about her?" asked Cho.  
  
"She's angry with me, 'cause when I told you and the others those things about her last night everyone told everyone else, and the rumours got bigger and bigger and worse and she thinks I did it deliberately and I didn't mean to hurt her feelings and now I don't know what to do," he finished in a rush.  
  
"Slow down," said Cho, laughing. "So, you told me and Padma that she thinks Harry and Ron Weasley are good looking, and it got spread around the school?"  
  
"Yes, but it, it got worse. And now she feels really humiliated."   
  
Cho sighed. "That's the thing with rumours - they always get worse. I'll bet that was Mandy." Ben frowned. "Mandy Brocklehurst - with the red hair? She was listening to you too, and she always makes things up. But anyway. You don't need to know how it spread, you need to know how to make things better, am I right?"  
  
Ben nodded. She was good.  
  
"OK, here's the bad news - you can't. Unfortunately they haven't invented an anti-human nature spell yet, so you're just going to have to let the rumours die down. They will, eventually. And to help them on their way, we have to set the record straight."  
  
"How?" asked Ben. He was amazed at how easy this all sounded when Cho said it.   
  
"Well, what's the real situation with Hermione? What's really going on? Because if we tell people that then they might start to ignore the rumours. Of course it's up to you - you might think that the truth would embarrass her more than the rumours..."   
  
Ben considered this. "I don't think so," he said. "The truth is that Harry and Ron are her best friends, nothing more. She was very clear about that. She only said they were good looking because Emily - that's her best friend at home - asked. Emily always wants to know things like that, she watches too many soap operas. She was awfully disappointed when Hermione told her she hadn't been having any secret love affairs at school."   
  
Cho laughed. "She sounds a bit like Mandy."   
  
"I don't think so," said Ben. "Emily's not malicious, she just likes things to be interesting."   
  
"That's all Mandy wants as well," said Cho. "People who spread lies only do it because they want a bit of drama. I think maybe we should spread the truth about Hermione, it seems like she didn't say anything embarrassing - and she has a point, Harry and Ron *are* good looking." Her eyes twinkled as Ben looked up at her, shocked.  
  
"Come on," she said, picking up her broom. "It's late, and getting cold - we'd better get back to the castle." She lit the end of her wand by muttering "Lumos!" and held it out in front of her like a torch. Ben looked around - he hadn't realised quite how dark it'd got.  
  
"Cho?" asked Ben, suddenly curious.  
  
"Yes?"   
  
"How did you get to know so much about stuff like this?"   
  
"I was hoping you weren't going to ask that!" She said, sighing. "If you really want to know, I've met several people in my life that weren't very nice to me, and I guess you just learn to cope. I handled it very badly to begin with, I can see that now - hindsight's always twenty/twenty. But I learned." She laughed. "You know, when they first told me about this prefect-first year partner thing Douglas said that some little first year could really benefit from my experience. I never thought he'd be right.   
  
Oh, damn, I hate it when Doug's right!"  
  
It took Ben a second to remember that one of the seventh year prefects was called Douglas Carter.  
  
They walked on in silence for a little while, then Ben, feeling better now about Hermione, remembered what Beatrice had told him earlier. He stopped and grinned.  
  
"What?" asked Cho.  
  
"Oh, nothing really. I just remembered," he said "Beatrice told me that we have our first flying lesson on Monday. I'm really looking forward to it - it's been my dream to fly since I was about five!"   
  
Cho looked very happy all of a sudden. "Me too - I always used to sit in the window seat of my second floor bedroom and just imagine I could step out of the window and glide away..." She smiled, remembering. "I'm a Muggle-born, you see, so I never thought I'd actually do it...but now I can!" She stroked the Cleansweep 9 in her hand lovingly. "Flying is just...it's the best feeling in the world. It makes you feel so free, so in control. There's something incredible about having the power to just up and leave, just soar away so high that everything on the ground is just a dot -all your enemies, all your problems, all left far behind."  
  
Ben listened with rapt attention. This was it. This was what he dreamed of.   
  
"I always knew there was magic, even though I'm Muggle-born too, because Hermione came here before I was old enough to stop believing. I always knew there were broomsticks and spells and things. But I've always wanted to fly, just on my own. I mean, I'll settle for a broom, because it's the closest I'll get, but what I'd really like would be to fly like a bird, unsupported, with the power inside me."  
  
Cho looked at him curiously. "Flying is a strange thing. You can't settle for a broom, you have to love it as though it were your arm or your leg. Treating the broom like it's just something you sit on to help you fly is not enough, broomsticks are very temperamental. Especially this one," she held hers up, grinning at it. "Beware flying with a broomstick that isn't a part of you - it only leads to trouble."   
  
Ben was almost scared by how serious her face looked, but he decided it was just the way her wandlight was shining up on her face making her look strange.  
  
They reached the doors, and each pulled one of them open.   
  
"Right, I'm off to the library," said Cho. "I'll see you around, OK? And don't worry about Hermione - everything will work out fine, you'll see. I'll start "spreading" the truth straight away." She winked, and hurried off down a corridor, still dragging her broomstick behind her.  
  
Ben looked after her for a second, then, yawning and thinking about what a long day it had been, Ben made his way back to the Ravenclaw common room, all the way remembering the things she'd said.   
  
As he got in to bed, Ben remembered what Dumbledore had said last night: "Many people learn many things at this school. It is not, nor has it ever been, a place devoted only to the instruction of children on specific subjects."  
  
Ben grinned. He'd been having classes all day, but now he felt as though he'd just learned his first lesson.  
  
  
  
  
  
*  
Disclaimer: to disclaim or not to disclaim - that is the question...(it's also the reason for the impending court case...eeek!)  
  
Thank you to my reviwers:  
  
Katy - Yes, I think she does know a bit too much for an 11 year old, but it's necessary for my plot! Lol. I'm glad you like Ben (I like him too!) and I think you were right about those rumours....lol. Hermione is a BIG fan of Leo, and in response to Ben and Beatrice both being from Much Ado About Nothing, I will say: (In the style of the enigmatic JKR) Well Spotted!  
*  
Giesbrecht - I have a friend called Laura who always sings, and Beatrice is a little like her. If you have any particular hymns, suggest them and I'll see what Beatrice thinks.  
*  
Marna - THAAAAAAAAANK YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU!  
*  
Spunky - thanks. I was a little worried about whether I was getting Ben right coz I don't have any brothers, so I was glad to hear you liked it.  
*  
Erin - Thank you. Ben definitely *appreciates* Ginny, but I think she's a little old for him. (Poor guy.) Thanks for the advice - as I said in the A/N it's not meant to be a romance, and I'm saying nothing about Ben and how what he might be better at Hermione, except to say that the title is a small clue.   
*  
Nethilia - I'm a natural Ravenclaw, and I feel that we're generally overshadowed, so I decide to write this fic, and I'm glad you appreciate it! (Beatrice agrees with me that there should be more Ravenclaw fics, but I'm not going to let her tell you that cos she'll end up typing a monologue twenty pages long on how Ravenclaws are misunderstood!) You're welcome to use it on any website you eventually make, as long as you send me the URL.  
*  
Inscriffany - *blushes* I'm really glad you liked it that much! I was working hard to get Dumbledore right, so phew! I'm glad you like Ben and Beatrice, I've grown to like them a lot and I would be offended if people didn't! As would they - Ben wants to say he's not surprised you like him and as he IS the star! (The poor guy has been overshadowed by Hermione so long that fame's gone to his head! Honestly, boys!)  
*  
Cail M - Icarus will feature more, don't you worry. (But don't tell Ben cos he doesn't know about it yet.) I'm extremely flattered that you like my style (I didn't even realise I had a style...) and Beatrice is most offended at the description of her as a "bizarre little sprite," though I think it fits her very well. Would you mind if I used it?   
*  
Some Girl - as I said, begging has no effect I'm afraid, but what about putting aside our inner-ship differences and peace-fully co-existing for the sake of the story? Lol. Ben agrees that he's a great kid. (He's getting really cocky with all these good reviews!)  
*  
Athene Moon - I hope Cho was better in this chapter, and thanks for the "evil constructive criticism" (painful but necessary). Also, I love your screen name - very cool.  
*  
Jondar - I think I'll forgive you the awww just this once, seeing as you said such nice things! g Ginny is going to find out that her own medicine is really quite funny, and Beatrice is deep in some ways, but in other ways she's extremely childish...  
*  
Krista - opening chapters are not fun, it's true. Stick with me, and we'll go far! I hope you liked this chapter a bit more.   
*  
Nykto - thank you, but I can't really take credit for Ben's character, cos that's all his!   
*  
Cali - Thanks very much!  
*  



	3. Just Another Manic Monday

NEW A/N I'm re-uploading this, because I've just realised that I managed to get Icarus and Daedalus the wrong way around! I love mythology, and I read it all the time, so now I feel stoopid! Oh well. The only different things are the names, so if you read this chapter already don't bother reading it again. (Unless you really want to, in which case - cool! Go ahead!)  
  
  
A/N OK, so this is slightly shorter than the rest of the chapters so far, but I had to end it there. Sorry! Anyway, I've finished my exams now, so I should be able to write more regularly.  
  
  
  
Ben Granger And The Legacy Of Icarus  
By Helmione Nightingranger/Helen, dedicated to the ever-fabulous Parker. Thanks for all your help.  
  
  
"Monday is an awful way to spend 1/7th of your life."  
  
Chapter III - Just Another Manic Monday  
  
Sunday Evening   
Dear Journal,  
  
It's strange, I never thought I'd write in here again, but there has been so much happening I wanted to write some of it down so I don't forget it. I guess it'll be something to show my grandchildren.   
  
Yuck. I sound like Hermione. Shoot me somebody.  
  
Anyway, now that I'm writing I might as well write something useful, especially seeing as I get the feeling a lot of the things happening here aren't what they seem, and maybe this journal will be useful as evidence or something.  
  
Mostly what's been happening is just lessons. I've been here nearly a week, and had at least one of every type of magical lesson now. I enjoyed Defence Against The Dark Arts a lot, even if Beatrice sulked the whole lesson because I told her to shut up when she said that werewolves aren't nice. I thought Professor Lupin was very nice, and Hermione said he was too. Well, that's what she told me when she had him in the third year - I don't know what she thinks now, because she still isn't speaking to me. Oh well. Thanks to Cho, I know nobody's really listening to the rumours now, they seem to have disappeared completely. I think Cho's quite enjoying being the "wonderful" heroine that helped the poor little first year in distress. She's getting on my nerves a bit with her "how are you doing today, Ben?" and "I hope everything's working out for you now," but at least the rumours are gone, and I don't feel guilty anymore. Hermione's just being stubborn. (Or maybe I should say she's just being Hermione, because it means exactly the same thing.)  
  
I wasn't too keen on Herbology - Dad always used to try and make me interested in gardening, but it's just not my thing really. Too much dirt. (Now I'm starting to sound like Ophelia...) Professor Sprout's quite nice, too, but not as interesting as Lupin.   
  
Astronomy was quite cool. I've always liked stars. One of the Gryffindors in my class is actually Professor Sinistra's daughter, Betelgeuse. Poor kid - I thought Benedick was a stupid name, but when I was introduced to her I thanked god that my parents like literature more than astronomy.  
  
Charms is quite funny really, because poor Professor Flitwick seems very scared of us all. He and Professor McGonagall both seem quite disappointed in me though - I suppose I *am* quite a let down if they were hoping for another Hermione. In a way, I kind of wish we didn't share a name. I don't mind that she's better than me at school stuff, I know she works really hard and everything. It's just sometimes I wish I could be judged as me rather than as Hermione's brother. It was even worse at primary school though, when I came after two legends. Who would have thought that I could be related to Ophelia "Van Goph's More Talented Twin" and Hermione "Brainiest Thing Since Sliced Einstein"? Nevermind. I guess I must be the best at something, I just haven't found it yet.  
  
Snape still isn't back, and Professor Figg is still strict, but I think she likes me, because I seem to be quite good at Potions and it's probably my favourite subject. History of Magic is easily the worst. The really stupid thing is that we can all tell that Professor Lennox is really intelligent, she just keeps trying to make things *fun* and *interesting* and that makes us want to kill her. Someone needs to tell her that we're not five years old.  
  
I've just read back over this, and it seems normal and harmless, so I'm not describing it right. I don't know what I can say to describe it the way things are around here - they're like nothing I've experienced before. The lessons themselves are fine, but there's something wrong and everyone can feel it. They act normally, but I remember Hermione's descriptions from last year and not once did she mention it would be this tense. I think that must be because it wasn't - I think it must be just this year, maybe because of that You-Know-Who guy coming back to power.   
  
I wish I could explain it better, but I don't really understand it. All I know is, I'm not usually a very perceptive person, but even I can tell that something is seriously wrong, and I'm scared. It feels strange here, like the walls are watching and the ceiling is listening, and the darkness is closing in on us. I don't understand what's happening or why, and all I can do is pray that the "Boy Who Lived" will triumph again, preferably without getting me, my sister, or my friends into mortal danger along the way.  
  
Who am I kidding? Hogwarts wouldn't be Hogwarts without a bit of mortal danger, right?   
  
But I'm still scared.  
  
*  
  
Ben slid his journal under his pillow where no one would find it, and went to wash his hands (he'd spilt rather a lot of ink on them - he was still getting used to writing with quills). Then he pulled the curtains around his bed shut, making it completely dark so he could sleep. He lay awake for a long time, though, trying to force thoughts about tomorrow's flying lesson into his head, to cover up the gaping black hole of irrational fear that had suddenly appeared.  
  
*  
  
When he woke up on Monday, Ben had forgotten last night entirely. The only thing in his head was flying.  
  
"I can't wait!" he said excitedly to Beatrice at the Ravenclaw table that morning.  
  
"Calm down, Daedalus," she said.   
  
Ben frowned. "Who?" The name rang a bell somewhere. The name was important.  
  
"Daedalus," Beatrice said, laughing "weren't you listening in History of Magic?"   
  
Ben looked at her. "Of course not. It was History of Magic."  
  
"He was that Greek guy that wanted to fly so much he built himself wings made of feathers and wax. Remember?"   
  
Ben nodded, vaguely. He did half remember.   
  
Just then the post owls swooped over head.  
  
"Feathers, you said?" asked Ben, a strange smile on his face.  
  
"Yes, and wax," said Beatrice, then she noticed what he was looking at. "but I don't think the owls will take kindly to you plucking them. Besides, Daedalus flew too close to the sun and his wings melted and he fell into the sea and drowned, so it's dangerous and you better not be seriously thinking about it!"   
  
She looked at him sternly, but he was still staring at the owls. He didn't really want to take their feathers, of course, but he was so jealous of the way they flew. He wanted that more than anything.  
  
"Icarus," he said, without thinking.  
  
"What?" asked Beatrice, looking up from her bacon.  
  
"It was Icarus. The one who fell into the sea. Daedalus lived."  
  
"I thought you didn't remember?" asked Beatrice.  
  
"I don't," said Ben, looking very puzzled. "I wasn't listening, but I know. Daedalus lived..." he frowned, trying to remember how he knew, trying to work out why he was so sure that Icarus died - and why it mattered so much. "Hermione must have told me - she loves old legends, she probably leant me a book on it once or something."   
  
He shrugged, and began to eat his muesli, entirely forgetting that Hermione always refused to lend him books because he folded the page corners over and cracked the spines.  
  
*  
  
"Right, I have a new set of a very rare plants in today, and I want you all to be very careful, because you're going to have to comb them," said Professor Sprout.  
  
"Comb them?" whispered Ben to Beatrice and Westerly Blue who was sitting with them. West shrugged, but Beatrice pointed to the front, where Professor Sprout was holding up some plants with what appeared to be thick hair instead of flowers or leaves.  
  
"The Because I'm Worth It Plant was discovered only last year by a Muggle-born wizard called Bernard "Baldie" Flyn. These unusual plants went unnoticed for a long time due to their resemblance to small furry animals, but Mr Flyn was trying to find his toupee, which had blown away in the wind, and he stumbled upon a cluster of the plants in America. Since then they have been found all over the world.   
  
Different varieties grow in different climates - the Blonde, for example, is native to Norway and Sweden. The Red is usually found in remote places in the Scottish Highlands. Warmer countries like Africa have mainly the Black variety, and the most common in Britain are the Brown and the Mousy. We're lucky enough to have an assortment, but they require a lot of care. They must be combed everyday, and shampooed twice a week to keep them in good condition.   
  
So, if you would get into pairs and pick a plant, the combs are in a box over there. Careful, please, the hair is very valuable for use as a wig or to be put into cough syrup."  
  
"The Because I'm Worth It Plant?" Ben said incredulously.   
  
West laughed, but Beatrice looked blankly at them. Ben was quite surprised to get any response - he'd expected puzzlement all round.   
  
"Are you Muggle-born?" Ben asked West, who nodded. "Oh, I didn't realise - I'm getting used to people having no idea what I'm talking about!"   
  
West laughed. "Me too - I was telling Fabian last night about how my big sister's obsessed with soap operas, and he didn't know what I meant. He asked me what an opera was, and I told him, which was a stupid thing to do, 'cause then he got even more confused. Asked me why anyone would be obsessed with singing soap."   
  
Ben rolled his eyes "Yeah - yesterday Beatrice asked me where Sesame Street is!"   
  
West laughed.   
  
"Hey!" said Beatrice. "That's not fair, there are loads of things you don't know!" She flounced off.  
  
Ben shrugged. "Do you want to work with me?" he asked.  
  
"Sure," said West. "Let's get that plant there - it looks like Jennifer Anniston"  
  
"Cool," said Ben "as long as it's not David Schwimmer - I don't want it covered in hair gel!"   
  
West laughed, and Ben grinned at him. Magic was great, but it was nice to talk to some one who understood about Muggle things.   
  
*  
  
For some reason, when they reached Transfiguration, Beatrice was refusing to talk to Ben. This didn't really bother him, he just sat with West, on a table with Jem Mint and Fabian Dan. But he did feel a pang of guilt when Beatrice glared at him from across the classroom, after sitting down with two Hufflepuff girls Ben didn't know.  
  
It was a very difficult lesson. They were supposed to be turning rings into bracelets, but it took a lot of effort. Ben found he could make his ring grow a little, but it couldn't really be called a bracelet, because you could only get three fingers into it.   
  
It didn't really matter though. He just enjoyed getting to know the boys. He discovered that whilst West was quiet and didn't push himself forwards much, Jem and Fabian were very loud and boisterous as well as extremely clever. They spent most of the lesson cracking jokes and laughing at poor West, who was trying to work.  
  
"Wake up, Westerly-is-besterly, and get your head out of that book!" said Fabian, ripping West's Transfiguration book - from which he'd been trying to pick up a few tips, as he was having trouble - out of his hands and throwing it over his shoulder.  
  
It hit Serena Macmillan (one of the Hufflepuff girls) in the back of the neck. She glared at them all, and picked the book up off the floor, and put it on her table.   
  
"Don't think you're getting it back!" she called over her shoulder.  
  
"Cheers," said West sarcastically to Fabian. "As you lost me my book, I think you'd better give me yours."  
  
"Take it and welcome!" said Fabian, shoving his book across the table. "I don't need a book, magic's all to do with your feelings and intuitions, anyway - books won't help you."  
  
"Feel the force, Luke!" said Ben. West laughed.  
  
"Who's Luke?" asked Fabian. Ben and West both shook their heads.  
  
"It doesn't matter," they said in chorus.  
  
"I'm bored now," said Jem, picking up his wand. Ben ducked - Jem had got "bored" earlier and dyed Serena the Hufflepuff's eyebrows hot pink.  
  
"Hey catch!" yelled Jem. Ben looked up. Jem hadn't had any problem with the difficult transfiguration lesson - his bracelet had been perfect - but now he'd transfigured the beautiful silver chain into a mini-Frisbee, and thrown it at Fabian.  
  
"Woohoo! I'm the best!" yelled Fabian, as he caught it an inch from the floor.  
  
"WHAT is going on back there?" demanded Professor McGonagall.  
  
"An experiment in aerodynamics, using transfiguration to adapt the variable so as to create a more interesting experiment," Fabian explained smoothly.  
  
Professor McGonagall did not look impressed.  
  
"Maybe you would like to explore aerodynamics further during lunchtime Mr Dan? You will stay after class," she said coldly. "Mint, Blue, and" the Professor gulped "Granger, you may join him."   
  
West looked at Fabian and Jem.  
  
"Oi, Bert and Ernie, Nice going," he said. Then he raised his wand and concentrated again on his ring.  
  
Jem and Fabian, however, were unfazed.   
  
"So, Benjamin, why did McGonagall not want to say your name?" asked Jem.  
  
"I dunno - probably 'cause of my sister - I bet she never gets told off."  
  
Jem and Fabian shrugged at each other.  
  
"And my name isn't Benjamin," he continued.   
  
Jem and Fabian shrugged again.  
  
"Details, details," said Jem with an airy wave of his hand. "Catch!"  
  
Ben saw a flash of silver, then the Frisbee-bracelet hit the stone floor behind him with a clatter.  
  
"Boys! What are you doing now?" came Professor McGonagall's voice.  
  
It was going to be a long lesson.  
  
*  
  
Ben sighed. Professor McGonagall had made them clean out a cage of guinea pigs for her afternoon class. It was dirty and smelly and frustrating too, as Jem and Fabian - who'd got them into trouble in the first place - hadn't done a thing. West had got annoyed with them, and there had been shouting, and all in all Ben was glad to be out of there and at the Ravenclaw table for lunch. The other boys had stormed off angrily in different directions, so Ben was all alone.  
  
There's weren't many people left, and most of the food was gone, so Ben sat down on his own and helped himself to the jacket potatoes and cheese.  
  
As there was no one to talk to, Ben amused himself by listening to other people's conversations. First he listened to the Hufflepuffs, but the only people left at that table were three fourth year girls discussing dress robes. Boring, thought Ben, so he turned slightly to hear the conversations of the Slytherins.  
  
"Well, father says it's a good way to bring some pride back, you know, emphasise the importance of blood to those who need a little...reminding."  
  
Two people laughed slowly. Ben knew that voice - it was Malfoy.  
  
"Anyway, the announcement goes out tonight. Dumbledore seemed to like the idea. Stupid old fool - he probably thinks that when people come they'll realise how we're 'all the same underneath' or some rubbish like that! I tell you, that won't be happening. He even said I don't need a teacher there - I'll have complete control!" There was a pause. "Are you two finished yet? Honestly, you eat so much I'm surprised you can fit through the door!"  
  
Ben heard Malfoy and his friends get up from the table and leave the Hall. He wondered what they were talking about. The "importance of blood"? He knew enough from Hermione and Beatrice to tell that Malfoy meant blood as in your family or your roots, but it didn't stop images of scarlet stains and broken glass filling his head. He felt as though he could hear the violence in Malfoy's voice - it sounded ominous, full of danger. Like a threat...or a promise.   
  
Ben shivered, and hurriedly finished his potato before rushing off to afternoon school.  
  
*  
  
Finally it was evening at last. The Ravenclaw first years hurried out to the Quidditch pitch as soon as their last lesson (History of Magic) was over.   
  
"Finally," said Ben.  
  
"What?" asked West, confused.  
  
"I've been looking forward to this - I've always wanted to fly," answered Ben.  
  
"I've told you, it's not as fun as you'd think," said Beatrice.  
  
"Oh, so you're talking to me again are you?" asked Ben coldly.  
  
Beatrice said nothing. She just stared at West as though she didn't want to say anything in front of him. He looked uncomfortable.  
  
"I'm, uh, going to go and look at the broomsticks, OK?" he said, hurrying away.  
  
"So why *did* you decide to start ignoring me?" asked Ben.   
  
"You were laughing at me. With *him.*" Beatrice referred to West with contempt in her voice.  
  
"So?"   
  
"You're supposed to be *my* friend."  
  
"I *am* your friend," said Ben, confused "but I'm West's friend too - what's wrong with that?"  
  
Beatrice frowned. "I'm not sure exactly," she said, looking puzzled "but you're my friend and I don't like it when you laugh at me with other people. And I don't like you being friends with other people. West isn't like you. I am."  
  
She walked away, her face a strange mixture of confusion and annoyance.  
  
Ben's face was a mirror image. He didn't know why she was upset - he could have as many friends as he wanted. And anyway, he didn't even especially like Beatrice, she was just *there* all the time. He didn't even want to be her friend, he told himself, as he watched her talking to some of the other Ravenclaw girls.   
  
Then the strangest thing happened. A feeling, a strange feeling, somewhere deep in his chest. Anger.   
  
Beatrice is *my* friend, she shouldn't talk to other people like that, he thought. She and I were intended to be best friends. We have to be. It's important. We're the same.  
  
Ben shook his head, wondering what in the world had made him think that - he and Beatrice weren't exactly identical twins. In fact, he wasn't sure they were the same in any way.  
  
And yet that feeling deep inside him told him that they were the same - in the least obvious but the most crucial way.   
  
They were best friends, like it or not.  
  
"Everybody, please select a broom and line up!" The shrill voice of Madam Hooch broke through Ben's thoughts.  
  
His stomach lurched as he picked up his broomstick. This was it. This was what he'd been waiting for.  
  
"Lie your broomstick on the ground, and command it to hover," said Madam Hooch.  
  
"Hover!" said the class as one. Most of the brooms jumped into the air. Ben could see Beatrice holding a hand over her quivering waist-high Shooting Star with a bored expression. West was looking at his airborne Cleansweep 5 with a look of slight anxiety. Jem and Fabian looked desperate to get up into the air, though Ben thought that was probably a bad idea - just imagine the havoc they could wreak up there.   
  
But none of them mattered. What mattered was that he, Ben, would be flying - really flying - in a matter of seconds.  
  
Madam Hooch was wandering around correcting grips, but all she said to Ben was "Perfect!"  
  
She walked back to the front. "Those of you that have done this before, or feel confident enough to give it a try, mount your brooms and kick off from the ground, like so," Madam Hooch said, demonstrating.   
  
Ben swung a leg over the Nimbus 95 in his hand, and kicked off from the ground. This was it. The culmination of eleven years of dreams.   
  
He felt the breeze on his face. It smelt fresh and sweet. As it was September, the air was still warm and it grew warmer as he rose upwards. It was wonderful to be up here, to be a part of the sky. He wasn't quite sure how to control the broom though - it seemed a little shaky.   
  
He tried to turn left, but the broom shuddered and dropped a few feet in the air. Ben gasped, and fought to bring it back up. Maybe it wasn't as easy as he'd thought. Maybe he wasn't naturally talented after all. Maybe he was just a normal kid, just another nondescript first year.  
  
But he was still flying.   
  
Maybe he wasn't a Quidditch hero, he wasn't famous, he wasn't going to be winning cups anytime soon.   
  
But he was still flying.  
  
Flying was right, flying was him. Flying was what it meant to be Benedick Granger, what it meant to be Beatrice Ravenclaw.  
  
He didn't know where that last thought had come from, but he didn't care.  
  
He was flying.   
  
He felt lighter than air, like he didn't even need a broomstick. He leant right over the front of his broom, watching the view below, watching his classmates, some still on the ground, some rising and diving through the blue skies.  
  
Ben pulled his broom up even further, and swept through a cloud, laughing. He saw the birds swooping around, and he felt like he was one of them. He chased after them, listening to their song, feeling strangely at home. Then suddenly he felt the sun on his neck and fear spun through him.  
  
He let the broom move gently downwards. It wasn't good to go too near the sun. It was dangerous. The wax would melt.  
  
He swept down and down, intending to land and get his breath back, but suddenly, coming out of a dense cloud, he saw he was above the lake.   
  
He pivoted upwards as quickly as possible, his heart doing cartwheels. It wasn't good to go too near the sea. The feathers would get wet.  
  
He raced over the lake towards the land. The broom still didn't seem to entirely trust him, even though he was sure that nothing could go wrong now that he was flying. It wouldn't go as fast as he wanted, or turn as sharply.   
  
But he was still flying.  
  
Ben felt a strange urge to sing. He felt so light, almost as though he had left his clumsy human body behind, as though broomsticks and magic were no longer necessary, he was gliding on the wind...  
  
Perhaps he leaned too far over. Perhaps he was going too fast. Perhaps the broomstick felt his thoughts and wanted to teach him a lesson. Whatever the reason, the wind was suddenly roaring too loudly and too fast, and the world was the wrong way up.  
  
And the right way up again.  
  
And sideways.  
  
And upside down.  
  
And there was the ground.  
  
And there was the darkness, spinning to meet him, filled with shards of broken glass dripping crimson blood.  
  
*  
  
  
  
  
A/N Sorry for the cliffhanger! (actually, I'm not at all sorry...Mwa ha ha ha ha)  
  
OK, so, I'd like to pledge my support to Cassie's campaign. I would like to officially say that I think fanfiction.net were extremely rude to Cassandra Claire. I am not saying she wasn't guilty of plagiarism - I don't know enough about the case to judge - but I think they should have given her warning. Because of this, and because I don't want to be the next person to be blacklisted, this is the last of Ben Granger that you will see on fanfiction.net. This is not, repeat NOT meant as a protest. I don't expect anything to be done because I'm leaving, I'm not that arrogant. However, I don't think fanfiction.net is the sort of place I want to be anymore. If you want to read any more, look for it on the HP_Fanfiction egroup, found at:  
  
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HP_FanFiction  
  
I hope it will also soon be appearing on a new fanfiction archive which is being built, but that's not ready yet.  
  
If you don't want to join an egroup, email me personally, and I'll send you the chapters as I finish them. Make sure to say in your mail which chapter you last read, because if it's been a long time since I posted this, I may need to send you several chapters at once.  
  
So - review this chapter (you know you want to). Or mail me and tell me your thoughts - I *love* email...  
  
  
Thanks to the reviewers of chapter II:  
  
Laura - Thanks! I'll try to make Cho nastier if you want! Lol. Beatrice is way too young for Ron, but she will sing Build Me Up Buttercup. (Ron belongs to Hermione Ha Ha!)   
*  
Jenius Jenna, Invisible reaper, and Ink Stained Author - I'm glad you like it. (I'll tell you a secret...Ron just might like Hermione...but shhh, don't tell anyone!)  
*  
Erin - Thank you so much for all the nice things you said! Ben is eleven, as he's a first year. The birthday that he has within this school year will make him tweleve. (Harry's age is quite confusing, because his is in July, but most kids turn twelve within the first year.) I wish Ben was my brother too - I've always wanted a brother, does it show? g   
*  
Nethilia - Yes, Lennox is a little like Lockhart, isn't she? And she'll get more so. Ron and Harry think she's a "good teacher" though...  
*  
Kate - Thanks! Don't worry, I know what you mean by cute! I think he's cute, and I see him as my little brother!  
*  
Cail M - Yes, I think maybe I overdid Cho a little. Oh well...Thanks for the suggestion, but I don't really know any of the songs from Cabaret or Bye Bye Birdie - what are your thoughts on Oklahoma or My Fair Lady?  
*  
Katy - You can order the sundial watches from Witch Weekly - collect three tokens and then send two sickles for postage and packaging. I'm glad you like Cho. The only song I know from Les Mis is On My Own, which like you say is sad. I might use it for Beatrice's audition...*shuts up before she gives too much away* Chapters will be rather random, I'm afraid - I'm extremely disorganised!  
*  
Shelly - I'm glad you like the chapters and the characters. Draco is not a nice person. I can promise you that - no matter what, he is a mean guy. I don't really understand what you mean about quotation marks, so I haven't changed anything, sorry.  
*  
Hermione Hino - I'll try!  
*  
Trinity Day - Socks are indeed very cool. I'm glad you like the story, and thanks for taking the time to review both chapters. I'm glad you like Ben - I like him too. (And he does like it when people appriciate him!) Like you say, Beatrice is on the edge of Mary-Sueism, but I need her to be as knowledgeable as she is for the plot. Ah, the sacrifices we make for our art...lol  
*  
no need to know - Harry asking Ben for tips - now that could be amusing...*scribbles furiously on her outline*  
*  
Cali - Ben is a little lovestruck, but I'm trying to portray him like this so its easy to see he's too immature for a real girlfried. He doesn't love Ginny, he just likes the idea of Ginny. And yes, she's way too old for him. But don't worry, she knows that, even if he hasn't worked it out yet!  
*  
  
  
Also, it occurs to me that I ought to do a disclaimer of the songs Beatrice is singing - I don't always know exactly who they belong to, but I'll put the singers:  
- Bring Me Sunshine by Morecambe and Wise  
- Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison  
- Fame (I'm not sure who it's by, but it's an extremely cool song!)  
- Good Mornin' from Singin' in the Rain  
- Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go by George Michael  
- The Rain In Spain Stays Mainly In The Plain from My Fair Lady  



	4. Family Ties - a cookie

There has been a change of plan. This story won't be found at HP_Fanfiction. (At least not yet.) It will be at www.FictionAlley.org in the schnoogle section. (You can just go to www.schnoogle.com to save time.) I can also send each chapter to you individually, if you like. Email me at heymynameisabird@hotmail.com Alternatively, I can email you when I put a new chapter on schnoogle, with a link. Whatever. Just mail me.  
  
I think that fanfiction.net will probably delete this message if it doesn't have any story in it, so here is a taster of chapter four, in the hope that they'll let it remain and you will know were to find the rest of the story. (NB, this is from the draft, so the final chapter may not use these exact words.)  
  
  
Chapter IV - Family Ties (A cookie)  
  
  
It was misty and hot. Ben was high above...somewhere. He wasn't sure where, but he was flying above it. It was dark, but not very dark. Twilight - the perfect mixture of Light and Dark. Obvious really - when else could the battle possibly be held? When else could the two sides meet?  
  
The ground was moving. Writhing. Like it was made of a huge mass of snakes. Figures moved in the half-light - slowly at first, and then faster, more frantic.  
  
Glass. Broken glass. Crimson blood. Writhing.  
  
Beatrice was flying beside him. He couldn't see her, but he could sense her - next to him, as it had always been intended.  
  
Why are they fighting? thought Ben.  
  
Because they don't know how to do anything else, thought Beatrice into his head. They are antagonistic pairs, they need each other, they need the eternal struggle, the never-ending fight.   
  
Like up and down? Thought Ben.  
  
Yes, thought Beatrice.  
  
We don't go up or down, we fly, thought Ben. Does that mean we don't have to choose Light or Dark?  
  
No, thought Beatrice. All must choose. Twilight can't last forever - one must triumph, and the other must challenge. Neither can win, but both must try, otherwise it will be the end of the world. So it has been, so it always will be. Day follows night follows day.  
  
And twilight can't last forever. Ben knew it was true, knew he must choose a side, but still he hung back. He didn't want an eternal fight, he just wanted to fly.  
  
Twilight can't last forever. One must go up or down, but not hover. Caught in indecision, Ben fell. Down and down, into the dark heat of the glass and the writhing ground.  
  
  
  



	5. Family Ties - a cookie

There has been a change of plan. This story won't be found at HP_Fanfiction. (At least not yet.) It will be at www.FictionAlley.org in the schnoogle section. (You can just go to www.schnoogle.com to save time.) I can also send each chapter to you individually, if you like. Email me at heymynameisabird@hotmail.com Alternatively, I can email you when I put a new chapter on schnoogle, with a link. Whatever. Just mail me.  
  
I think that fanfiction.net will probably delete this message if it doesn't have any story in it, so here is a taster of chapter four, in the hope that they'll let it remain and you will know were to find the rest of the story. (NB, this is from the draft, so the final chapter may not use these exact words.)  
  
  
Chapter IV - Family Ties (A cookie)  
  
  
It was misty and hot. Ben was high above...somewhere. He wasn't sure where, but he was flying above it. It was dark, but not very dark. Twilight - the perfect mixture of Light and Dark. Obvious really - when else could the battle possibly be held? When else could the two sides meet?  
  
The ground was moving. Writhing. Like it was made of a huge mass of snakes. Figures moved in the half-light - slowly at first, and then faster, more frantic.  
  
Glass. Broken glass. Crimson blood. Writhing.  
  
Beatrice was flying beside him. He couldn't see her, but he could sense her - next to him, as it had always been intended.  
  
Why are they fighting? thought Ben.  
  
Because they don't know how to do anything else, thought Beatrice into his head. They are antagonistic pairs, they need each other, they need the eternal struggle, the never-ending fight.   
  
Like up and down? Thought Ben.  
  
Yes, thought Beatrice.  
  
We don't go up or down, we fly, thought Ben. Does that mean we don't have to choose Light or Dark?  
  
No, thought Beatrice. All must choose. Twilight can't last forever - one must triumph, and the other must challenge. Neither can win, but both must try, otherwise it will be the end of the world. So it has been, so it always will be. Day follows night follows day.  
  
And twilight can't last forever. Ben knew it was true, knew he must choose a side, but still he hung back. He didn't want an eternal fight, he just wanted to fly.  
  
Twilight can't last forever. One must go up or down, but not hover. Caught in indecision, Ben fell. Down and down, into the dark heat of the glass and the writhing ground.  
  
  
  



End file.
